


No Coming Back

by MessengerThief



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Discussion of past non-con outside Dean/Cas, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, John Returns, John Winchester Lives, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kinda, Legendary Winchesters, Multi, POV John Winchester, outside pov, up to season 13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 53,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessengerThief/pseuds/MessengerThief
Summary: Unable to find a way to rescue Mary Jack decides that he’ll bring back someone else instead: John Winchester. With any luck the boys will still forgive him and they can search for Mary together.However John being back goes about as well as expected. John has to deal with the fact Sam and Dean live in a grayer world than he ever imagined possible along with some other shocking revelations.Obligatory John returns fic.





	1. Waking Up Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is canon compliant-ish until 13x09. Sam and Dean mention they've been looking for Jack for months so this story takes place in those months. John has no memory of any time in between him dying and waking up.
> 
> I say compliant-ish because I genuinely don't know if Destiel is canon or not or if they're going to get together anymore. Basically everything is canon except Cas and Dean are together and have been together for a long time.

John Winchester wakes up in a ditch. Its early morning, with the sunlight still pale and weak. This isn’t actually the first time that this has happened to him. He isn’t too disorientated seeing as it wasn’t exactly a sensation that you forgot. The familiarity of the situation is what stopped him from realising straight away that he had just come back from the dead.

He stands up, rubs mud from his clothes and then remembers.

Sam.

Dean.

The deal.

He has to find them.

-|-

It only takes him about an hour to find a town. There he realised he’d been gone for a long ass time. 2017. Ten years, more or less. Holy fuck. He hadn’t even been able to find a newspaper to tell him when and where he was. He’d gone into a diner and saw the TV on the wall. The news was on and the date was in the bottom right hand of the screen. The very flat, modern screen.

The phones were even worse. He’d asked the waitress for a telephone he could use and the waitress had handed him a mobile. It was a flat, black rectangle. Eventually she’d taken him around the back so he could use a landline.

He tried ever number he could think of. No one was picking up. None of Sam or Dean or Bobby’s numbers connected. He gave Ellen a try but there was nothing. Some old hunters he thought would still be ticking. Missouri. He thought about calling Adam but he wouldn’t be able to help him track down Sam or Dean which is what he really needed right now. Oh God, Sam and Dean knew what had happened but Adam must’ve thought he’d abandoned him.

He left the diner without buying anything. The waitress gave him a dirty look.  
He decided to hitchhike up to Sioux Falls. If anyone was still kicking it would be Bobby.

-|-

When the lorry driver who is giving him a ride informs him that he is pulling over for the night John suggests a town a few miles over. They are about halfway to Bobby’s and John remembers there being a cheap but surprisingly nice motel nearby. The driver is grateful but that wasn’t why John had suggested it. There’s a hunter bar there, or had been at least.

He isn’t sure what exactly his footing is with other hunters. If they’d heard he was dead this could get complicated. He doesn’t fancy explaining how he’d come back to life. Hell, he doesn’t know how he’d come back to life.

Most people’s heads go up when he goes inside. Those are probably the hunters. John sits down across from a slightly older couple and who he assumes is their daughter because they are closest to the door.

“Sorry to bother you, I’m looking for Bobby Singer. Old friend of mine. Don’t happen to know him do you?”

The man and his wife share a look. John can’t read it.

“We knew Bobby,” the woman replies, “He passed. A few years ago now.” Damn. John doesn’t really know how to react to that. It isn’t surprising; he’d been prepared for the worst. But it isn’t exactly nice to hear.

“I’m sorry,” The man says, “Did you know him well?”

“We used to hunt together. Long time ago. I’ve been out of the game and was looking to track down a few old friends.” It isn’t a lie and John wearies the prolonged eye contact as the man gauges him.

“We hunted with Bobby too. More unusual game than you I expect.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” The man nods at John’s response.

“This is my wife Sally, my daughter Liza and I’m Geoff.” No last names, perfect.

“John.” They don’t shake hands.

“What exactly are you here for?” Sally asks him.

“Like I said, I’ve been out of the game. I was just looking to get in contact with a few people.”

“How long?” Liza hadn’t spoken so far so John’s attention hadn’t been on her. Just now he notices that her arm is bandaged and secured to her chest with a make shift sling.

“Ten years or thereabouts.”

“Long time.”

“Well you know what they say, you never really get out.” John pretends not to notice Sally shoot Liza a look when he says that.

“Who else are you looking for? The community’s gotten a lot bigger in ten years so we might not be able to help but if they’re old timers its worth a shot.” Geoff’s talking evenly but John is picking up on something. ‘The community had gotten bigger’? The hunting community wasn’t exactly so small that everyone knew everyone but Geoff seemed to be talking about something else.

“Sam and Dean Winchester.”

The bar quiets.

A few people continue to talk. A group of four in the far corner who hadn’t heard, a few others scattered across the room who he guesses aren’t hunters. But everyone within ear shot who knows stops talking immediately.

John had noticed that others were paying attention to their conversation but he hadn’t expected this reaction. He also hadn’t expected this many hunters. Nearly everyone in the room looks like they are in on the secret.

“What exactly are you trying to take down that you need their help?” John turns towards the brown haired man who had spoken. He looks scared.

“Just old friends I’m trying to get a hold of. Not after anything at the moment.” For some reason John’s heart is beating quickly. What exactly is going on? What the hell had Sam and Dean done to get that reaction? Fuck.

The room itself is almost silent now. There are whispers and a few confused looks from the non-hunters. A few of them sensing something decide to pack up and go.

Geoff calls out, “He’s been out for ten years folks.” John looks around and notices that among the looks of surprise or understanding the brown haired man from before was now grinning.

“Well everyone, why don’t we fill him in?” The man says, still grinning at John. There are other smiles now, grins, but looks of concern too. A few people start moving their chairs closer to John; the four in the far corner get up and find another table.

“Right you lot,” the barman yells over the noise that is building, people sounded excited, “If we’re doing story time everyone better behave.”

“Drinks all round!” The brown haired man announces, “Steven, the floor is yours!”

There are a few groans and a few people stand up to let a man about John’s own age through. Even with his mind spinning John manages to wonder what age exactly he was now. Still the same or did he add ten years? God, it was confusing.

“So those of you don’t know me my name’s Steve and my claim to fame is that I was once in the same house as the Winchesters.” John focuses on keeping his face blank but his mind was whirring. How was that a claim to fame? “Now, this was back when they were just a couple of damn good hunters so I didn’t even have a clue. I was just over at Bobby’s and I saw a sweet Chevy Impala in the drive. I asked him whose it was and he told me that John Winchester had just bit it and his boys were passed out upstairs. I didn’t know John, didn’t know the boys so didn’t think anything of it. Left none the wiser that day, raised a glass to another hunter lost and went on with my life. It wasn’t until around the time of the Apocalypse when I realised who I’d nearly ran into.”

“The Apocalypse?!” John spurts. There are a few laughs.

“You really have been out of it haven’t you?” Steve clasps a hand on his shoulder, “Hate to tell you buddy, but there’s been a few.” John’s mouth suddenly goes very dry. He doesn’t think he can actually talk right now but he has to ask: 

“What have Sam and Dean got to do with this?”

“They stopped them, all of them, saved the world.”

“Yeah or stared them,” A voice calls from the back.

“You can shut the fuck up!” Someone else shouts.

“Everyone’s always talking about the Winchesters but most of you weren’t hunters way back when most of us were hunting Sam Winchester himself,” The woman who says this walks over to John. There are more years on her face than most hunters get, “I dunno know you or how you know those two but stay the hell away from them. They aren’t whoever you thought they were.”

“Damn, Caroline, harsh,” The brown haired man says but she’s already leaving, “Ignore her. She chooses to believe the worst.”

“The worst?” John feels like he’ll regret asking.

“You know, that the Winchester’s killed their dad ‘cause he was trying to stop Sam from going evil, that they’re the reason why the world’s full of so many more monsters and demons, that they’re friends with the King of Hell, they’re the reason the angels fell, that Sam and Dean are doing the nasty, that all that business with the end of times last year happened. Some people even say they’re both demons,” The man notices that John had blanched, “Hey it can’t be true. They’ve stopped the end of the world from happening at least twice which I don’t think they’d’ve done if they were demons or evil. Plus the fact they’ve got an angel running around after them makes me think they’re the good guys.” Sally shoots John a concerned glance. She seems to have a lot of those to go around.

“Bullshit! There’s no way they’ve got a pet angel. I’ll believe anything else. However many times they’ve come back from the dead you say I’ll believe it. But angels are nasty sons of bitches, there’s no way.” John doesn’t even know who is speaking, he is concentrating very hard on not puking, or, oh God, fainting.

“Hey, he doesn’t look so good.”

Sally stands up, “Everyone back off. Remember when you were finding out about this life for the first time. And we’re talking about his friends.”

“Look I just wanna know where I can find them,” John manages to get out. His voice remains even somehow.

“You don’t find them, they find you!”

“Shut the fuck up, Shawn!” Geoff yells, “Right everyone we’re gonna fill John in at ours.” Geoff gestures for John to stand up. He manages it.

“You got Jody’s number?” Someone asks Sally on their way out.

“Sure,” Liza replies. Jody? Who is Jody?

Outside John takes a few deep breaths, they aren’t very calming. Sally puts a steadying hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry about that. This must be a lot to take in. How about we give you a bed tonight and tomorrow I can drive you up to Jody’s? I don’t know her personally but if you still want to find Sam and Dean Winchester she’s your best bet.”

John grasps her hand.

“Thank you.”


	2. Overwhelming

“How about you ask questions and we do our best to answer? It might be less overwhelming that way.”

John holds the mug in his hands. He wasn’t planning on drinking the calming herbal concoction but the warmth is a comfort. He looks up at Sally.

“I think that’s a better idea.”

“I’m sorry we threw you in at the deep end. When you said you were a hunter, well, you kind forget how much crazy shit has went down. We should have broke it to you like a civilian.” Liza snorts at her father’s words and John decides not to comment.

“So what do you want to know?” Sally asks. John shake his head. There is so much… and so much he doesn’t want to.

“Angels? They’re real?”

It is Liza who replies, “Yep. ‘Angels of the Lord’ they call themselves so I guess that means there’s a guy upstairs too. Or girl.” Sally puts a hand on her arm.

“Few people have actually met any, but they’re real. There’s been rumours for years: that the Winchesters had one watching their backs and with the whole Lucifer thing… well if you believe that you have to start wondering what else is out there. But about five years ago they fell. I don’t know how or why but hunters actually started running into them.” Sally’s voice catches.

“What you need to understand, John, is that angels are warriors,” Geoff takes over, “Nasty, violent sons of bitches with higher purposes and little regard for human life. They’re not nice or… kind. And they possess people, willingly. As far as we can tell. But if you meet one expecting harps and carol singing you’re dead. We’re just ants to them.”

“Angels posses people?” This question was actually the second thought that entered his mind. The first that angels might have answers about what happened to him. But the second is still a compelling question, and one the people in front of them might actually be able to answer.

“Willingly. They need permission to take a host. And who’s gonna say no to a freaking angel?” Geoff smiles ruefully. John is very, very aware that something else is going on here. But he keeps quiet.

“And eh, Sam and Dean. They’ve got one… doing what?”

Sally shrugs then looks at her daughter. “Liza might…”

“No, in fact I’m leaving. I don’t want to listen to this.” Geoff sighs as she leaves the room but makes no motion to stop her.

“Someone said in there that Sam and Dean had died. Do you know what he meant by that?” This isn’t a question John is sure he actually wants an answer to but it’s the first that sprung to mind to cover the awkwardness. It is possible that the guy in the bar had just been talking about John’s sacrifice. It is also likely that Sam and Dean had been monumental idiots and made deals of a kind John isn’t sure he can forgive. Was that why he was back? If one of them had traded their life for his he is gonna be pissed.

Geoff laughs unexpectedly “That is a long story my friend. Stories. And I don’t know if any of its true.”

Sally looks at John in a way that made him uncomfortable. It’s like she is sizing him up. It takes him back to his army days, an opponent seeing how much he could take.

“How close were you to Sam and Dean?” That was one question John hadn’t expected. Is he letting slip just how much he cares?

“They were, eh, the closest thing I had to family. Back then they were just a couple of kids.” It isn’t a lie. In fact it is the most truthful thing John is willing to admit.

“Then this part might not be easy for you to hear.”

“I know I freaked out in the bar. This shit is a lot to take in. But I promise you I can take it.” This is a lie.

“Half of its probably not true mind,” Geoff is looking at him very closely, “I’ll believe in a lot of things but you know hunter stories, its all Chinese Whispers and Urban myth. You don’t just take it with a grain of salt you -”

“- Take it with enough to gank a ghost.” John smiles at the old hunter saying. Something familiar he can latch onto. “Yeah, I know but I gotta hear it from someone. Hell, you tell me the worst and when I see them again and they clear things up it’ll be a relief.”

“Fair enough. Well nearly ten years ago in fact there was a story that Dean Winchester had sold his soul and been dragged to Hell to save his brother’s life. But he popped up again pretty soon after that so no one thought much of it. We’ve all heard that one before right?

“Then there was a bit of a weird one. There was a prophecy of sorts, that Sam Winchester was gonna set Lucifer free and end the world, or be possessed or something of the sort. That he was the antichrist, addicted to demon’s blood, a demon raised to be a hunter. Psychics all over the place knew something was up but no two of them had the same story. Basically there was an Apocalypse just around the corner and no one knew what to do. It was a mess, a whole load of hunters tried to track Sam Winchester down and take him out before whatever happened.”

“Not us, we thought it was a load of bull,” Sally quickly adds. She’d noticed John’s expression.

“Yeah. We stayed out of it. Anyways a rumour started making the rounds that some hunters had caught up with Sam and Dean and taken them out. But the Apocalypse was still on, every psychic or two bit fortune teller was still wailing about the end of times, Lucifer rising. If anything it got worse after that.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t even tell you that story. It sounds like a load of crap to me. Some hunters after some glory. Wouldn’t have thought anything of it but -”

“- Our car was having some issues and I took it up to Bobby. Always liked to give him our business, saving people’s lives doesn’t exactly pay well. When I was up there he asked if I knew a couple of hunters, Walt and Roy Marks? Don’t know them? I’d ran into them a few times so I said I did. Then Bobby said that if I saw them again to tell them that ‘Dean’s awake but’s saving being pissed for when he’s less busy.’ In fact Bobby told me to pass the word around.

“It wasn’t until a later, this was after the Apocalypse was off, world had been saved, no one had seen either of the Winchesters in months that I found out the hunters who supposedly killed the Winchesters were Roy and Walt. Then the Apocalypse itself counts, I suppose. Everyone thought they’d died after it. Demons were going haywire, the number of monsters running around double, people started really talking about angels, but hey, at least the world hadn’t actually ended.

“Then middle of it all were the Winchesters. Back, from the dead. Or out of retirement, more likely. After that the world went even crazier. Used to be a hunter took out a demon once or twice in their lives, or avoided them altogether. Now… well there’s no point joining this line of work unless you’ve got that covered.”

Geoff takes Sally’s hand. John tries he really tries to take in the fact his sons could have died three times over but he can’t. It wasn’t possible.

“It gets to the point where you have to ask yourself what’s more likely, that the Winchesters pull all of their shit, all of it, without a scratch? Or that they’ve died and somehow dragged back to the land of the living?” Geoff shakes his head, “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.

“The stuff those two do. There were the demons, the monsters, the Leviathans who were these nasty fuckers they took down. Most hunters stayed out of that train wreck. And the angels. And the Darkness. Those creepy British guys. Nothing connecting them except shit and the Winchesters. It’s just one thing after another and there’s always the Winchesters to stop it.”

Geoff still has Sally’s hand in his. John’s staring at their hands grasped together. He thinks his heart might be breaking but he’s not sure. He should be proud. His sons have saved the world. If he believes half - if he believes less than half - of what Sally and Geoff have told him his sons have still saved the world twice. He’s not proud though. He’s… something else.

Sam never got that normal life he wanted. Dean… John was never sure what Dean wanted besides hunting and looking after Sammy. And that in itself strikes him for the first time in his life as just sad. His sons are soldiers who’ve probably saved the entire fucking world and all he feels is… is this regret?

“John?” Sally has moved next to him. She has a hand on his arm.

“You talk about them, like, they’re legends or something.” Geoff laughs a little at that and it makes John realise how silent the world is. It’s dark outside.

“I guess we do. Sally and I fall on the side of defending the Winchesters more often than not. I mean anything that the demons and the monsters of the world are afraid of has to be good right?” John’s energy to speak has gone. He just gives Geoff a questioning look.

“They’re em, this is gonna sound stupid but remember it’s a different world from your hunting days okay? There’s a heck of a lot more monsters out there than there used to be. So if you do get one, and you’re able to catch it, it’s useful to get information out of it. Rough it up a bit. Find out how many are out there. Someone, Gods knows who, worked out that if you tell a monster you know the Winchesters? They start spilling secrets. Most of them will tell you anything you want. Where’s the lair, how many?

“It’s the demon’s though. They tend to be quite chatty. The stuff they say about the Winchesters, Dean Winchester survived Purgatory as a human and stole an angel away. That one stood out. I remember the first time Sally and I caught a Demon and used calling the Winchesters as a threat. She just laughed and laughed and then she burned herself up from the inside.”

Sally’s face twists at the memory. She gently takes the mug out of John’s hands. He’d forgotten it was there.

“There’s more if you want to hear it. But it’s not good. And out of everything we’ve said tonight it’s most likely to be true.”

“I wanna know. I wanna know what happened to my boys.” John is too tired to keep the emotion gone now. Too tired and too shocked. In the bar it was just hunting stories. Over exaggerated and dramatic. Told to entertain. In the cool lights of the kitchen, in someone’s family home, everything feels too real.

“I was on a hunt about two and a bit years ago. Geoff couldn’t get time off work so it was Liza and I along with a hunting couple, Sam and Julie, that we knew and a young hunter that they knew. We caught a demon. This was well, it was a quiet period and by now that’s a bad thing. She was young, the demon. Chatty from the beginning, looking for a way to escape no doubt. And she found it. James, he was only 22 and he’d just found out he had cancer. Terminal. He made a deal. Her freedom for a cure.

“She was about to kill us all. There was nothing I could do; there was nothing I could do to save Liza. She threw Sam right through a wall. Sam, he’s been hunting since he was a kid, he’s over six foot, built like Captain America and she threw his around like a rag doll. I knew I was dead as soon as I saw her do that.

“Sam’s wife Julie, she yelled out ‘Sam’ and the demon just froze. She’d just snapped James’ neck. She just dropped his body and lifted Julie off the ground by her coat. It was terrifying. She was yelling and screaming at Julie and the demon sounded so scared. So freaking scared.

“I finally came to my senses enough to work out what the demon was saying. It was still pretty incoherent. Stuff like ‘tell me that wasn’t Sam Winchester’, ‘the King will kill me,’ ‘Dean Winchester himself is gonna hang me up on a rack.’ I managed to grab some holy water and sprayed her. That shook her out of whatever shock she was in.

“I was just standing there with a skooshy spray. She could have taken me out in half a second but instead she just ran. I’ve gotta ask myself what has the kind of power to absolutely terrify a demon like that and it sounds like she was terrified of hurting Sam Winchester. I can’t even guess at what that means.

“Sam is still in hospital, he’ll never walk again and all his nerves are burning, apparently. Constant agony. Liza quit hunting after that. I did too for a while.”   
In the silence that followed Sally’s words John knew he had a lot to think about but he didn’t know what. So he fixated on what was a relatively minor detail.

“The King of Hell?”

“Crowley, used to be King of the cross roads. With Lucifer gone he took over.”

“When the demon said Crowley was going to kill her for hurting Sammy?” John doesn’t even notice the slip but Sally does.

“I know Geoff said that monsters being afraid of the Winchesters had us believing that they are good guys. And that’s the truth mostly. But I’ve also gotta wonder if that demon and I and Liza and Geoff are just foot soldiers in a war we know nothing about. If that’s why the King of Hell would protect a human, and a hunter no less. Maybe they made a deal, Crowley gets to be king after Lucifer if he can keep them alive. Maybe that’s why they’re still kicking. Or maybe Crowley wants to kill them himself.”

John asks himself what is better, that the King of Hell is after his sons or allied with them? It is the thousandth question tonight he doesn’t have an answer for.

“We could have told you nothing but lies tonight and if so I am so sorry. I just… felt like you should know. You should speak to Liza. She knows Jody’s daughter, Claire. She hasn’t told us all of Claire’s story but I know that Claire knows the Winchesters.”   
“He shouldn’t ask her about that.” Geoff hasn’t spoken in a while. His voice is loud compared to Sally’s. John finds it more steadying, more substantial. That’s something he needs tonight.

“Why not?”

“We asked her not to see Claire. I’m sure she’s a nice girl but people around the Winchesters die. Look at Bobby. And Garth, no one’s seen him in years. They’re just dangerous. I know it’s ridiculous coming from a man who taught his daughter how to fight the monsters under her bed instead of keeping her away from this world but somethings are just not worth risking.”

“Are you trying to say I shouldn’t risk it?”

“Yes, I am.” The stare John gives Geoff is cold.

“I can’t, they’re my boys,” John wills Geoff to understand.

“We’ll do anything for our children.” Sally gets up and takes a picture frame down from the windowsill. She hands it to John. Inside the picture are two children, a girl awkwardly edging into her teen years and a boy standing by her side. He’s tall and smiling fondly down at his little sister. John remembers that exact look from Dean’s face.

“We will. If it means keeping them away from people who are dangerous or protecting them from themselves. We’ll do it.” When John looks up understanding is finally dawning on Geoff’s face.

“How are you here?” He asks. John still doesn’t have an answer but he’s maybe getting close to one.

“I don’t know but from what I’ve learned tonight my sons probably have something to do with it.”


	3. The Kid Knows Best

It’s not surprising that John can’t sleep. His mind has never felt so full of questions. And his emotions are all over the place. Maybe it’s coming back from the dead but John is sure he’s never had so many feelings in his body before. Maybe it’s renewed his capacity. There’s regret and hurt and sadness and pain and confusion and anger and he doesn’t even know if anything he heard tonight was true which makes it all the more unclear.

Geoff and Sally had taken the revelation that he was a dead man walking surprisingly well. They’d done all the necessary tests and a few more. Then they’d left John alone in a spare room. A spare room that was filled with all the posters and gimmicks of a teenage boy. It hit too close to home for John. This was something Sam and Dean had never had but it still reminded him of them. 

The kitchen was better. It was white and modern and although it had all the trappings of a family living there it wasn’t quite as personal as the spare room had been.

“Can’t sleep?” It was Liza. He hadn’t noticed her at all. John wondered if his hunting instincts were shot. I wouldn’t exactly be surprising. 

“Lot to take in.”

“Yeah I heard.” John raised an eyebrow. She was standing awkwardly in the doorway, at first John thought she felt out of place in her own home but then he remembered he was a strange man sitting in her kitchen.

“I eavesdropped.” She sighed and sat down across from him. John re-evaluated her. Maybe it wasn’t him that was making her awkward after all. “Mum and dad left some stuff out. Some stuff I know.”

“Your parents said you might but em. I think I’ve heard enough for one night.” John had wanted to get caught up on what he’d missed. Now he was having a mortality crisis on behalf of his sons. He knew he couldn’t take much more. It would be better just to see them.

“No, you’ve not.” She got up and started moving around. “Coffee?” 

“Yeah, that would be-”

“I’ve never met Sam or Dean Winchester but Claire said they were good people. The, best in fact, and I trust Claire with my life.” If his boys had cut him off like that… John’s temper flared but he noticed that Liza seemed to be struggling. Focusing on making coffee and not looking at him. He wondered if he should help her, her army was in a sling after all, but it seemed to be giving her a distraction. “I know that they have saved the world. And they do have an angel watching over them. Or working with them. Or whatever. Mum and dad… I know what they told you sounds bad. Honestly their lives must suck. But I know they drop in at Jody’s and have dinner with them. Claire and her sister, Alex. They saved both of their lives, that’s how they met. I’m telling this all wrong. I just wanted… What my parents said sounded bad but I know that they aren’t. Bad. Sam and Dean Winchester aren’t bad.” 

Liza hands John a coffee and goes silent. The pause draws out. Is he supposed to ask questions? Maybe that was everything she had to tell him. He’s grateful, he truly is, she’s put his mind at rest. But there is something still unfinished.

She’s sitting across from him now and staring at her coffee. Should he speak? Break the silence?

“Thank you for telling me that-”

“Claire saved my life. I gave up hunting, went to a college across the state, and I completely blinded myself to the real world. There was a vampire on campus and I just ignored it because I didn’t want to deal with it. Then it got me and if it wasn’t for Claire I would be dead. I wanted a normal, safe life but it was just worse. It wasn’t normal, and wanting it so much it made me oblivious to the real dangerous out there.”

There is another pause. It is obvious that Liza has no idea what she is trying to tell John. For once John actually knows what the right thing to say is.

“My son, Sam, he wanted a normal life.” Liza’s head goes up at that. It might be the first time they’ve made eye contact. 

“Sam Winchester wanted a normal life?” Liza sounds disbelieving. She looks at him like she’s talking to a mad man and John can’t help but chuckle. 

“He got one. He studied law at Stanford. But eh, this ain’t exactly a life you get to leave. The same thing happened to him. He thought he’d got normal but it doesn’t mean the monsters just stop existing.” 

John’s never told Sammy how sorry he was about that. He still views Jess’ death as inevitable and he doesn’t have a lot of sympathy for Liza. Both Sam and her made a dumb, rookie mistake and payed the price. But he is sorry the world is like this, sorry that he views wanting reasonable, normal things as a mistake. And sorry that the world proves him right. 

“You know what’s really weird? I used to think my life was normal. Maybe not normal compared to other people but normal for us. When my parents left my brother to babysit me it wasn’t because they had date night, no they were off killing a werewolf or something and I knew they might not make it home. But they always did make it home. I knew about all these things that other people didn’t know about but they didn’t… I didn’t… Other people were the weird ones. Not us. 

“Maybe it was because my parents weren’t full time hunters and we weren’t raised on the road… or maybe it was because we grew up knowing what the world was life instead of having the rug pulled out later on… You’ve never seen such well-adjusted hunter kids.

“But then the angels came. And suddenly my brother was gone and there were cosmic powers and divine intervention at play and everything was so much bigger than I ever imagined. Being a hunter wasn’t just about knowing something a little extra about the world, it was seeing a whole new one and it was a world that sucked. Where freaking angels didn’t give a fuck about humanity, and where the fuck is God? 

“I think it was because angels weren’t just another monster. I mean I’d always assumed demons were just another kind of freak. Maybe Hell was real but it was just a place that demons dragged you. But angels have… implications. And then I almost died and I just quit. Angels didn’t care enough to fight those bastards. Why should I?”

Liza took a sip of coffee. Her first. John did the same. She smiled a little then shrugged.

“That’s how Claire and I… We bonded over angels being assholes.” Something about that... to John it sounded personal.

“You met one?”

Liza nodded.

“Your brother?”

She was looking down at her coffee now. 

“I’m really sorry.” Possession is possession in John’s book. Nothing John has heard tonight has convinced him that angels are good. And that scares him a little. The world he has woken up in feels completely new. He knows how Liza must have felt. 

“Claire’s dad, well, he’s dead now. The angel in his body is still kicking though. I don’t really understand how it works. His name’s Castiel and he checks in with Claire every now and again. Watches out for her. And I have to wonder why the bastard who took Andy doesn’t do that. I know why. I know it’s because Castiel’s special and all that. And I know that Claire has it so much worse. Her dad got taken away when she was just a kid and her mum’s gone and we got to keep Andy until the angels fell while Claire’s been living with an angel running around in her dad’s body for twice that amount of time but at least she gets something.”

Liza is crying and John doesn’t know what to do. Comforting people is not a skill he posses. Luckily she just wipes a tear away and continues.

“I’m telling you this because the angel who helps Sam and Dean Winchester is Castiel. So at the very least they’re working with an angel who cares enough about humanity to actually help. Or try to. I mean this millennium old being keeps an eye out for Claire so he can’t be bad right? Angels don’t really care about humans at all and they’ve found the only one who not only cares about humanity but also individual humans.”

John isn’t convinced. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know a lot about your sons. Claire and I mostly spoke about angels and hunting and it kind of weirded her out to talk about Sam and Dean like they were, I dunno, legends or something. But I do know they’ve saved her life and that they drop into Jody’s to ‘eat her food and watch chick flicks’. She says they’re like these annoying uncles or something.” 

“Who exactly is Jody?” That’s definitely a question John should have asked earlier but he hadn’t realised how important she was to the boys.

“She’s a hunter and a sheriff. Most people around these parts know her. It’s handy to have law enforcement on your side in this line of work. She’s Claire and Alex’s mum. She adopted them. All three of them have pretty messed up lives from the sound of things but they make it work.” Liza like most kids he knows raised in the life has this maturity to her that is hard to place. The responsibility and duty that this kind of life demands is enough to steel anyone but for kids… to even survive in the life so long… to know nothing else… it’s what allowed her to speak to a total stranger about some pretty traumatic experiences for half the night. But he can tell that inner strength is waning. 

“Thank you, Liza. For everything.” 

“No problem.” There is another pause. Their conversation has been full of them but this one feels final. She gets up and pours her coffee down the sink. 

“Night.” 

“Night.” Just like that John is alone in the kitchen again. 

Liza reminds him of someone. He tries to figure out who. His mind snaps to Sam. He sees the connections but it doesn’t feel right. 

Dean. Dean who thought being a hunter was normal. Dean who it didn’t even occur to that there was anything else to want from life. Dean who ran out of a house fire with his whole world changed forever. A sadness stuck to Dean. One he only recognises now because he’s seen it in Liza. A sadness that can make someone look awkward and out of place in the kitchen of a family home, like Dean always did. 

John is beginning to realise just how much he has fucked up. He wanted revenge yes, but he also wanted his boys to be safe and to keep other people safe. The world would be better with the yellow eyed demon gone. He taught them to fight monsters so that they would be prepared for whatever came after them, or after other people. It’s a weird kind of safety. Geoff had talked about it earlier on in the evening which feels like years ago. There’s nothing safe about telling your kids the monsters under the bed aren't real but there’s some safety in showing them how to fight them.

Yet the stories about Sam and Dean sound like they’re on the front lines of a warzone. Maybe that’s just what the world’s like now. And one again he finds himself sorry that that’s the case.

He knows their happiness was never one of his priorities and that it probably should have been. But he also knows that whatever life his boys have been living since he’s been gone… it’s the furthest thing from safe he’s ever heard of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this will be the last chapter of John playing catching up. This part was originally intended to be one chapter but, holy shit, John has missed out on a lot. 
> 
> And as fun as writing about legendary Winchesters has been, we can now move onto the really fun part.


	4. Jody's Day Off

Jody really, really liked her life. This seemed kind of crazy when you considered all the shit she’d been through but by now she just accepted it. Okay yes, at one point her entire family was dead and she’d been told there were monsters living amongst them and she’d not known what was going to get her out of bed in the morning. But now she had two daughters who drove her through the roof but also happened to be brave and smart and could kick-ass. They’d both pretty much moved out but were still at the stage where home was still home to them so she was at the stage where that meant everything was peaceful more often than lonely. She was still a sheriff; she just policed a little something extra on the side. Her mortgage was just a year from being paid off although she knew Alex’s college fees were gonna come back to bite her. Yeah, there were downsides. But the upsides were pretty great.

Life was good. 

Hell, on days like today when the supernatural creatures of the world decided to take a day off on her actual day off, life was fan-fucking-tastic. 

Until the door-bell rang. 

-|-

Sam loved Dean and Cas. But when he walked into the bunker’s kitchen and found them making out like teenagers he wouldn’t be a little brother if he passed up the opportunity to talk shit.

“Ewww! Oh my God. Gross. Did not need to see that!” He accompanied the valley girl accent with a slight squeak. It was some of his best work. Dean just rolled his eyes and took a step back from where he’d had Cas crowded against the counter. 

“Please do not bring my father into this,” Castiel intoned. Sam scoffed and hoped that Chuck was watching. If Sam had to put with them Chuck did too. 

Honestly, Sam didn’t mind. He was glad that they were in a good place right now even if everything else was going to shit and they still hadn’t found Jack or Mary. Cas and Dean seemed to fluctuate wildly between honeymoon period, old-married-couple and at war. Or any combination of the above. 

Just that morning they’d been having a huge argument (not fight, their fights actually involved beating one another up) about… something and now here they were moving around one another seamlessly in the kitchen preparing dinner. And if the fact Cas was wearing Dean’s Led Zeppelin top was anything to go by the honeymoon stage had definitely happened this afternoon. 

Although Sam didn’t really want to think about that part of their relationship. He’d never exactly loved hearing stories of Dean’s womanising ways but the thought of his brother and best friend… yeah, that was a no go. Thankfully Dean was pretty quiet on the subject of Castiel. 

Sam used to find Dean’s uncharacteristic privacy suspicious. At first he had thought it was because Dean was on the verge of going into gay panic mode but that never happened. Then one drunken late night conversation had revealed that Stanford era was educational in a completely different way for Dean. It actually turned out Dean was pretty secure in his bisexuality by the time he finally got around to having his Cas thing. So it wasn’t that.

Then maybe it was because of all the crises they went through. Why talk about something that had an expiry date? The world need saving, Sam needed saving, the world need saving, Cas needed saving, the world needed saving, Sam needed saving, the world needed saving, Dean needed saving… It never stopped. Sam couldn’t blame Cas and Dean for living in the moment because it wasn’t like they had many spare moments of peace to go around. Here today, gone tomorrow. Except they got a lot of tomorrows. More than they ever expected. In fact sometimes they even slipped into periods of downright tranquillity. Okay that still involved routine hunting and the like but it was the best they were gonna get. Yet the pair of them didn’t take those opportunities to get their act together.

To top it off there was the fact that they, or at least Dean, had kept seeing other people for a long time. Cas and Dean could be a picture of domesticity all day and Dean would still pick someone up that night. Sam didn’t really get it and when he asked he got a non-answer from Dean and something cryptic from freaking Cas. Turned out the angel could switch the profound bullshit mode on and off. 

Finally the two of them seemed to work out that they were in it for the long haul. Years after everyone else had worked that out for themselves. 

Sam found himself in a world where Cas and Dean wasn’t some unspoken thing that everyone knew about. Instead he realised that Dean had been quiet about Cas for all those years because Cas was important. Cas was something he was nervous about. Cas meant something that Dean couldn’t put into words. 

It was a lot nicer for everyone involved. Everyone being Sam. He didn’t have to skirt around them when they’d been fighting. He didn’t have to pretend to never see them together. He didn’t have to act oblivious to the intensity that surrounded the two of them. 

At moments like this, when they were making chicken curry while he sat at the table on his laptop, all three of them talking about nothing for once, Sam was happy. He was really happy. A lot of that was because his ignoramus of a big brother had finally got his shit together. Some of it was because he was getting a home cooked meal and it didn’t feel like a novelty. Some of it was because the Wi-Fi was playing nice for once and he was halfway through season two of Stanger Things. Mostly because it felt like he was home.

This was not the kind of life he had ever pictured for himself but wouldn’t trade it for a lifetime of normality.

Sam hoped they stayed in the old married couple mode for a few more hours, or even the honeymoon setting. Jack’s disappearance had been putting a strain on their relationship. He got it. He was worried about Jack more than either of them, and like Dean he felt like they were being side-lined waiting in the bunker doing research. Except he knew research was what would most likely help them find Jack while Dean felt like they were sitting around doing nothing. Add to that Cas was actually running around topside… Things were getting a little tense. This reprieve was nice. But he knew it wouldn’t last long.

Sam’s phone went off in his pocket. Before he got it out he had time to wonder, news about Jack? A possible hunt? He was very wrong.

“Hey, Jody? Hang on, let me put you on speaker. What’s up?”

“Your dad’s here. He’s alive.”

-|-

Oh God, why did she say that? Anything but that! That was not what she should have opened with. 

‘Pull it together, Jody,’ an inner voice grumbled, ‘You don’t just ask someone why they’re alive!’

The thing was Jody hadn’t even asked. She’d screeched. She liked to think that nothing could surprise her. When she’d met Mary she’d managed to maintain herself and keep her dignity. 

But after seeing Liza again and meeting Sally and John… If he’d just introduced himself as John Winchester it could have quietly clicked in her brain and she could have shown an appropriate level of surprise. But no, they’d all moved into the living room and John’s mannerisms and his expressions and something in a deep instinctual part of Jody was screaming at her that she was missing something. All her cop and hunting instincts were going haywire at the familiarity and then she’d finally worked it out. 

“HOW’RE YOU ALIVE?”  
John and Sally had looked taken aback. Thankfully when Liza had found out Claire wasn’t there she’d gone to wait in the car. That was a smidge less embarrassing but the situation still wasn’t great. 

“I, em, um, don’t really know? I was hoping you might actually,” John managed to take the shocked look off his face and put a more sombre one there. Jody appreciated it. He continued, “Sally says you know my sons.” 

Clearly she was supposed to fill this silence so she said what she’d said to Mary. 

“They’re the best men I know.” She watches as John takes that in. She expects pride or happiness to show even a little in his guarded face. Instead the expression she gets the briefest glimpse of is relief. Huh.

“Are you a demon? Know of Amara or Chuck? Ran into Castiel?” Jody loves Sam and Dean she really does. That’s why she’s checking where their dad fits into the cosmic scheme of things. But sometimes she just wished they could keep their particular brand of craziness to themselves. She had just been about to order take away. 

It was Sally who answered, “I did all the usual checks. Don’t know any of those names though.” 

Jody could see that Sally’s posture had changed. She was wary of Jody. Not surprising, Jody had just found out a man had come back from the dead and she had options as to why that might be. Jody got it. 

The change in John was less noticeable. His posture stayed the same but there was something in his eyes. Jody didn’t know exactly what it was. She found herself getting defensive.

“Why’re you back?”

“They’re my sons. I want to see them. Can you contact them?” Jody leans back in her seat. John Winchester is polite but demanding. Someone used to getting his own way. 

“I’ll try but they might be busy.”

“Busy? Busy how?” Jody can see it from John’s point of view. She really can, he’s back from the dead and his sons might be too busy to see him. It doesn’t sound great. But something about him riles her up the wrong way. She knows how much pain their parents have caused Sam and Dean and there’s a surge of protectiveness in her. So she decides to mess him around a bit.

“Lucifer had a kid apparently. No one’s been heralding the end of the world yet but give it time I suppose. It’s a nice change. Normally it’s more urgent.”

She’s expecting him to look surprised but instead he draws in a shaky breath. 

“That’s what they do? They deal with stuff like this?”

“So the rest of us don’t have to.” That’s not quite true. Jody’s been roped into helping them enough to know that it’s not true. But it feels like the right thing to say. She’s feeling a bit more sympathetic to John right now; she recognises her own worries on his face. Still, only a bit. 

“Can you call them for me?” He doesn’t say please but he’s not looking at her either. Jody doesn’t know him but she does know his sons. She imagines this is what they used to be like when they asked for help.

“Sure thing.” 

Its ringing when Jody realises she has no idea how she’s gonna break it to them. None at all. She figures telling them straight is best. 

“Hey, Jody? Hang on, let me put you on speaker. What’s up?”

John’s gasp at hearing his son’s voice registers faintly.

There is a brief pause where she considers if there’s any way to do this less brutally. She’s the Sheriff, she’s lost count of the number of times she’s had to break the bad news to families. It doesn’t make her any more prepared for this. 

“Your dad’s here. He’s alive.”

It’s short, concise and maximises the shock factor. She thinks she can hear Sam’s brain ticking and then, after a too long second, there’s Dean’s:

“Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cliffhanger's cruel, I know. I'm sorry! I promise I'll be nicer next time. They were supposed to meet up with John this chapter but I decided to give you domestic Team Free Will and a bit of in-fic-context for how Destiel came to be instead. And if you can't tell long suffering Sam is my favourite trope.


	5. Nearly There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ”Hey everyone! Sorry to leave you on that last cliffhanger but Christmas was actually really good this year so I decided to soak up as much of it as I could. Hope everyone had a great Festive Season and I wish you all a Happy New Year! (unless you're reading this in the future, in which case Happy Whatever Big Life Event/Traditional Holiday is coming up)
> 
> P.S. To make up for the break here's two chapters. Consider one a late Christmas present.

In the end they decide it’s easier for Jody to drive out to the bunker tomorrow than for them to go meet her. The idea behind this is that it’ll be a few hours where they can get some sleep and research in. They don’t. They sit around and wait anxiously. 

 

-|-

 

“I need to do something.” 

Dean looks up from where he’s cleaning his guns. The good thing about the bunker is that they have a lot of guns. They have an arsenal. The bad thing is that Dean’s nearly finished cleaning them all for the second time. 

“Yeah, like what?”

“You could let me clean the guns?” 

“Nope. Then I’d have nothing to do.” 

It is very obvious to both of them that they are talking about anything other than the thing. 

“Look man,” Sam says sitting down across from Dean, “Its dad, if its dad, if it’s really him this is…” 

There are no words, Sam thinks. There are no words for how crazy their lives are. 

“Sam, this isn’t gonna end well.” Sam did not expect this from Dean. His surprise must show because dean continues, “Think of mom. How well that ended.” 

'Ended'. Sam shifts uncomfortably. It's not a word he likes to consider when thinking of mom.

“You’ll be fighting with him after a day. We’ll have to explain that we lost mom. And Cas… That’s even if Cas says it’s really him.” Sam knows that wasn’t what he was going to say. The whole world knows what he really meant.

There is a hardness to Dean now. Well, there always is, it’s been that way for a long time. But this particular brand of it Sam recognises. He’s hardening for a battle, closing up, closing off. And until that last sentence Sam would have said it was because they were walking into a battle of sorts. Dean was getting ready to kill a monster that looked like their father. But he knows now that Dean’s ready to fight against their father’s disapproval which is a different battle altogether. One Sam fought often in reality but one Dean fought only inside his mind. In this coming battle Dean’s walls will go back up, some of that anger that’s oh so slowly been seeping away, almost gone now, will resurface. Sam makes a mental note to hide the strong liquor. 

“I’ve fought dad a lot in my life, Dean, and I will do it again.” For you. They both know what they’re really talking about.

Dean smiles. It makes him look younger, wait no, that’s not it exactly. It takes a moment but then Sam gets it. This smile is one he hasn’t seen in a while. It belongs to a much younger Dean. It’s bordering on goofy. It used to mean ‘I’ve got your back’ to Sam. The one Dean gave him on his many, many first days of school. Or when they’d had an argument and Dean let him know he wasn’t really angry. That he was always there for his little brother.

Then there was Stanford, and then they were hunting again. And that smile meant everything it used to but now it went both ways. It meant ‘I’ve got your back, Sammy, and you’ve got mine.’ 

Through the complicated art of Winchester communication Sam translates this exact smile to mean: ‘I’m grateful.’ 

“You should get some sleep kiddo.” Sam won’t sleep tonight. He knows this, and Dean knows him better than he knows himself so Dean definitely knows. Yet despite this fact Sam stands up and makes towards his room.

“You should too, jerk.”

“Night, bitch.” 

 

-|- 

 

Jody isn’t exactly cold towards John. She’s gave him a bed for the night and good food and tomorrow she’s gonna take him to meet his sons. Still, John can’t shake the feeling that she doesn’t like him.

At dinner he’d asked her a few things. About some of the stories. She’d managed to give one word answers to opened ended questions. Then he’d asked about the angel. She’d managed to make those answers monosyllabic.

Fucking Hell.

He’d snapped a little. Forgot his manners. 

“Look they’re my sons and I have a right to know-”

“No, you don’t.” She’d cut him off and shut him down. “Sam and Dean don’t deserve me running my mouth off about them to you. God knows they get that often enough.” 

John had leaned back in his seat, away from her. He was pissed off and offended. And then he was grateful. 

“Thank you.” He'd got some satisfaction from her shocked look. “You’re right. All this prying… well it’s got me freaked out to tell you the truth. And it’s nobody’s business but theirs to tell me. I hadn’t realised that. I just wanted to know about them. I’m glad they’ve got you sticking up for them. That you’ve got their backs.” 

Jody might not like him but after that moment he liked Jody.

 

-|-

 

Dean had not expected to sleep so when he wakes up in Cas’ arms he’s more disorientated than comforted. It’s a shame, he kinda wants comfort. He deals.

 

-|-

 

Cas has managed to miss the magnitude of the situation. He’s trying. He’d sensed that Sam and Dean needed space last night so went and watched Netflix. But now in the morning he has no idea what to do. When Dean wakes up in his arms he suggests sex. It’s worked in the past when Dean needed distracted. But Dean pulls a face – and Dean never pulls a face over sex – and Cas realises that this situation is one they’ve never been in before. Which is saying a lot, they’ve been in, as Dean would say ‘a fuck ton’ of messed up situations. Cas registers a new emotion he would categorise as containing traits of nerves, worry and anxiety. This is particularly concerning because Cas still isn’t good with new situations, let alone ones that trigger unspecified emotional responses in him. 

Most people would recognise this feeling as ‘first time meet the parent nerves, amplified by not sharing the same species as my significant other, combined with worry about the reactions of Dean, and to a slightly lesser extent Sam, to their father’s return and the dangers he may pose to them, with a bit of general anxiety about being in this situation in the first place and not knowing how to deal with it.’ Except no one would ever recognise this feeling because no one would ever be in this situation. 

As for the angel with his basic grasp on anything other than fundamental emotions? He had no chance.

 

-|-

 

The car journey is more successful than dinner was. Jody fills him in on current events. The president is some religious guy who was briefly possessed by Lucifer which had something to do with Sam and Dean is the most interesting thing he got out of it before she’d realised what she let slip and abruptly changed topic. By that point it’s just another thing to file away to ask about later. 

There’s other stuff too. Global Warming and the refugee crisis and small town sheriff politics. Somewhere along the way, maybe two hours into the drive, they actually get along. 

“I remember after Mary and I got married everyone brought food to our house. It had started out as a joke about Mary not being able to cook so we’d need something to live off for a while. It went on for months, our neighbours got in on it. Mary got so pissed. Just when you’d think it was over there’d be Mrs Carmichael from down the street at the door with a meatloaf.” 

Jody’s laughing and John feels the best he has since he woke up to this new life. 

“After Abbie and Sara got married they had the opposite problem. They invited everyone in the county to the reception but still managed to have too much food. I don’t know how. It’s the biggest wedding I’ve ever been at and they had enough to feed everyone three times over. I don’t know what they did with it. I took some home with me and I was eating leftovers for days.” 

There is a pause. It’s not quite awkward but if it goes on for much longer it will be. John doesn’t know if he or Jody started it. 

“Two women, eh?” 

“That’s what the world’s like now John. Legal in every state so get with it.” 

He’s always had a leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone attitude to gay people. He’d known a few gay hunters and as long as they did their jobs he didn’t care. That didn’t always mean he hadn’t felt uneasy around them. Still, he figures that he should watch his tone around Jody. 

“Didn’t mean to sound disrespectful. There’s just a lot to catch up on.”

There’s another fucking pause and John is getting sick of them. Sick of being unsure about what to do. Jody’s jaw is clenched. Fuck this. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. Can you fill me in about why there’s so many hunters nowadays?” It wasn't something he'd been desperate to know but it was a question she might actually answer and fill the stupid silence.

Jody explains that more monsters means more incidents which means more people finding out which means more hunters. Plus the number of people recovering from demon or angel possession meant that those in the know doubled every year. 

“It’s starting to even out now. But there was a while there every second hunter you’d meet had been doing the job two months and two months after that they were dead. I dunno what the Hell I’m talking about. I was one of them; I just made it out the other side.” She stops and deliberates. “Didn’t hurt that I had Sam and Dean looking out for me. If you’re gonna be shown the ropes in this line of work who better than Sam and Dean Winchester?” 

John notices that she’s doing it too, slipping into the reverent way people talk about them. He know that she told him that so he’d know his sons looked after her, that they’re good. That’s not what he’s picking up on though. He’s more interested in the fact that even though she knows them well even she can’t help but talk like they’re… legends. 

“Speaking of, we’re nearly there.”  
 


	6. Reunion

“It’s him,” Cas confirms as Jody and John get out of the car. Dean lets out a shaky breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

It’s him, Dean thinks. Oh God, it’s really him. 

Sam moves forward first. John is more aware from looking at Sam how much time has passed than anything else he’s experienced. His hair is even more ridiculous and he’s grown and bulked out and there’re lines on his face and they’re hugging. 

They both fight back tears and struggle to let go. Sam keeps a hand on his shoulder for as long as possible. 

“Dad?” Dean sounds so unsure. Like he had on the phone. John smiles softly at his boy.

“C’mere son.” He always forgot his sons were taller than him. Always. Until they were this close. 

Dean is quicker to let him go.

Sam and Dean move onto Jody and they are more sure with her. They hug her and something she says makes them laugh a little. John wasn’t paying attention to that, he was watching his sons. They were older but they’d aged well. John’s brain suddenly supplied that they were nearly his age now. But they still seemed so young, far too young to have over 30 years of hunting experience under their belts. 

Jody was pulling away. She’d told John on the way there she didn’t plan on intruding. She’d told the boys she didn’t want to sit in on an awkward shit show of a family reunion. That’s what had made them laugh. Dean didn’t like to think about how accurate that description might turn out to be. 

There is another moment of hesitation, another fucking pause.

John’s getting good at breaking them so he says: “It’s good to see you boys.” This is an understatement. It doesn’t encapsulate half of what he thinks or feels right now. But - somehow - it’s the right thing to say. They all laugh. 

 

-|-

 

Watching Sam and Dean with their father is an educational experience for Castiel. There is so much awkwardness in their gathering. Shunted movements and moments of expression cut off short are its defining features. At the same time there is so much love. Cas can see it, see their souls light up: when they hug, when they laugh. 

There is a breadth of human experience here he will never truly understand but it is beautiful to watch. If only it didn’t make him feel so lonely. He is surplus to requirements and for one of the first times in his long existence he feels like he is intruding, witness to something he shouldn’t, so he leaves.

 

-|-

 

“We should head inside,” Sam says. 

“Where exactly are we?” John asks because out of all the possible questions his curiosity picks this one. 

“It’s an abandoned bunker. This secret hunter-type organisation, the Men of Letters, used it before they went extinct. We use it as a base of operations. It’s our home.”

Sam is blabbing excitedly in that way of his. Dean is looking around for Castiel but not finding him. John is staring grimly at the interior of the bunker. No one is at ease.

“We can show you around. Give you the grand tour-”

“No.” Sam and Dean both stop walking and turn to look at John. “There’s time for that later but first you need to fill me in on everything that’s been happening since I’ve been gone. Actually wait no, first you’ve gotta tell me if you know anything about why I’m here.” 

“We’ve got a theory,” Sam says at the same time as Dean says, “You’re gonna want to take a seat.” 

They all sit, around what John thinks might be a war table. They have a war table.

“If one of you have sold your souls-“

“We haven’t.” Dean’s voice is firm. He's not lying.

“There’re a few things we’ll look into. Billie, Chuck and Amara, and Jack are who we’re thinking of but it could be someone else. Cas is pretty sure it’s not an angel.” 

‘Not an angel.’ That’s a sentence he never thought he’d be relieved to hear. The only name Sam had said that John had recognised was Cas. That was the name of their angel isn’t it? 

“So who are these people?”

“Billie is Death, or the physical manifestation of it at least. She’s powerful enough to bring you back but we don’t know why she’d do it. In fact, she controls the reapers and hates people meddling with life and death so we can probably rule out her. Chuck and Amara are-”

“Deities. They might have something to do with you being back. It’s their MO and they might feel like they owe us one or something.” Dean cut Sam off so John knows that they’re hiding something. He decides it’s not important at that precise moment in time. He’s just come back. He wouldn’t have raised them right if they weren’t distrustful. 

“Deities? Of what?” John’s come across a few gods in his time, mostly weakened pagan ones who wouldn’t have the power to pull a stunt like this. 

“Eh…” Sam hesitates, “Creation and destruction, I guess. They’re very powerful. But that still raises the question of why they‘d bring you back.

"...

“Then there’s Jack, he’s a Nephilim, the child of an angel and a human. We have been looking after him but he ran away a few weeks ago. We’re searching for him.” Sam looks down at his hands. John had picked up a lot of extra information from what Sam said – powerful gods owed them favours, they’d met and knew Death well, the mere fact they had multiple options for his resurrection, like Jody had, but these ideas have names and motives - but what John picks up on most is their body language. They are tense. After mentioning Jack Sam had gone rigid. This isn’t keeping secrets out of caution and mistrust, this is something else. They aren’t lying to him. They’re choosing what truths to tell. 

“And Cas?” John knows the answer of course, but he wants to know what they decide to tell him. 

“He’s family.” Dean’s barely spoken. Dean only spoke earlier to stop Sam from telling John too much. That could be why his words stick out so much. Or it could be because of Dean’s air of defiance. He’d called Castiel family with such finality it was like he was daring John to challenge him. John had expected this from Sam. Not from Dean.

“Castiel? The angel in the trench coat from outside? The one who disappeared? If he was family he’d be part of this conversation, son, and he sure as Hell isn’t. He ain’t your family. I’m not even sure he’s not a monster.” 

Dean remains calm. He’s sitting in the same position from before and his face is still. John knows that if Dean really disagreed he’d be saying something right now. Sam knows that Dean is seething. His jaw is clenched and his body practically hums with the effort of holding himself back. Any moment now, one wrong move from dad and this will go to shit. So Sam distracts them.

“How’d you know that dad?

“Saw him outside, I’ve heard a few things I put two and two together.”

“You’ve heard a few things have you?” Dean smirks and Sam knows he’s failed. Prayers are the only thing that'll help him now.

CAS! Cas! Get down here now! Please. Dean needs you.


	7. Family Feud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!

“Cas is family dad.” This is Sam’s last ditch attempt to diffuse the situation. If it doesn’t work he has no idea what will happen. “He’s my brother. I consider him my brother.” Dean considers him a lot more.

It actually works. 

John understands what brotherhood means to Sam and Dean. The importance they place on it… so to hear Sam say that Castiel is their brother… it is not something he expected. It makes him hesitate. 

“Seriously? All it takes is for Sam to say that and you’re reconsidering? You’re unbelievable.” 

Aw fuck.

“Watch your tone, boy.”

C’mon, Cas. Please.

“No. You don’t get to come into our home and talk that way! Talk about us, talk about Cas-” 

Cas, I’m begging you.

“I am your father! I’m worried about you! You have something not human living in your own goddamn home! You know that it’s just a vessel? There could be some poor bastard trapped in-”

He needs you. C’mon.

“There’s not.”

He needs you, Cas. 

“How exactly do you know that? Because the things I’ve heard-”

Please.

“You’ve heard what exactly? Please, enlighten us!” 

“Things that make it sound like you’re monsters!” 

Sam and Dean freeze. 

They’re all standing around the war table. Sam’s glad they are because he’s fairly certain if they could reach each other they’d have been throwing punches right now. 

Sam has spent a lot of his life being angry at his father. He has fought him and disobeyed and rebelled. But he has never before been full of such fury. He wasn’t there. He has no right to judge. They’ve saved the world and they’re still standing. They’ve made it through the dark. 

Dean is breaking inside. His anger is gone. John’s not even been back an hour and he can see it. See what they’ve become in his absence. The things they’ve done. 

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you.” Dean leaves. He turns around and heads off in the direction of his room. 

Sam and John watch him go. He’d been eerily calm in a way Sam had seen before and he had genuinely feared for their father’s life. Then his voice had broken on the last word and that was something Sam was totally unprepared for. Dean had sounded so hurt.

John turns to Sam. 

“Save it, dad. I’ll leave you to explore. Pick a bedroom it looks like no one’s living in and stay in it for a while will you?” Sam takes off after Dean.

 

-|-

 

Cas, where were you? I needed you.

 

-|-

 

Dean’s sitting on the edge of his bed when Sam gets there. It looks like he’s praying. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I let it get out of hand. I’m not used to playing the mediator. I should have stopped it.” That was always your job between dad and me. 

“Not your fault.” 

“Who are you blaming instead? Dad or yourself?”

Dean groans and flops back onto the bed. 

“Please, Sammy, I can’t deal with a chick flick moment right now.” 

“Yeah. Fair enough.” He pulls out Dean’s desk chair moves it so he can rest his feet on the bed. “What he said… He’s wrong. We’re not monsters. You’re not a monster.” 

Some days Dean believes that. Some days he wakes up and hits the road because they’re hunting something and they save a damsel in distress and he believes that he is good. 

He can’t remember the last time he had one of those days. 

Some days he wakes up next to Cas and that is fantastic, it really is. However Castiel is an angel who was dead two months ago and there’s no getting around that. Cas is a constant reminder of how far from normal all their lives are. Then they hit the road and hunt but they can never save everyone. Dean knows that for every person they save the monster’s already killed three. It didn’t used to be like that. He used to be grateful for saving anyone but now it doesn’t seem like enough. They can stop Lucifer multiple times, take down Knights of Hell and kill Death but by the time they even get news of a case people have already died. On those days he doesn’t feel like a monster, not really, he just feels like a failure. 

Then there are they days he wakes up and Cas is gone and he takes a moment to remember why. To look for Jack, who’s missing because Dean fucked up and didn’t take proper care of the kid. Didn’t help Sam when Cas was gone. He couldn’t do his job and protect the security guard. He couldn’t take care of a scared kid. He couldn’t care for a child. 

It’s a relief because he feels a very human type of monstrosity. He knows it was a mistake. He can justify his actions. His can rationalise his feelings of failure and guilt. He feels like some kind of monster, but only because he made the wrong choices. Not because of some inherent evil lurking within him. He prefers those days even though they are the days when Cas is gone. Maybe that’s what he deserves.

Then there are the worst days. The days when he looks at Sam and Cas and knows how much he has hurt them. He picks up a knife and the last time he used it was when he had the Mark of Cain. He sees someone who looks like someone he killed. He trains with Sam and one of them lands a punch that reminds him of being a demon. He wakes up next to his angel and is filled with the knowledge of how undeserving he is of Castiel’s love. To say he feels like a monster on those days is not enough, on those days he is fully aware of exactly how much of a monster he really is. 

There is another type of day though. He’s only had one so far. On it he feels like not only a monster but also a freak. On it his father comes back and judges him. He can live with the knowledge of all the terrible things he’s done but seeing someone who is at once an outsider and unbearably close judge him, judge Sam, judge them, brings back all of the things he’s put to rest.

“We’re not monsters,” Sam repeats. Sam’s still angry at John, angrier than he’s ever been. He wants to keep a hold of that anger because it’s better than the alternative of letting John hurt him. It’s too late, though, he’s already thinking about John’s last job for Dean. ‘Save him or kill him.’ He hadn’t realised that he’d never forgiven John for that. It was such a long time ago; he’d thought he had gotten over it along the way. He hasn’t. And what if John was right? They didn’t save him; not really, he’d sacrificed - killed - himself and then come back, soulless. What if John thinks he should have stayed dead? What if John thinks he should have found a better way to save Dean? Or stopped him when he couldn’t? Sam already knows what John will think of Crowley and Rowena and all the other loosely-termed 'people' they’ve worked with over the years. 

What if John is right?

“We’re not monsters,” He says again. Except this time he sounds uncertain.

“Yeah. I know.” Dean doesn’t sound sure either. He sounds defeated.

Sam sighs. He has no idea how to make this better.

 

-|-

 

John quickly realises that if he explores the bunker he’s going to get lost. It’s massive. He’d managed to find the kitchen but had yet to find the bedrooms. That’s probably because he’s avoided the direction Sam and Dean had went. 

He hadn’t meant to say any of that. In the kitchen he makes some coffee and considers taking it to the boys to apologise but he doesn’t know where they are. He waits a long time in the hope that they’ll come looking for him, or at least come looking for food. They don’t. 

He slumps in his chair and rests his head on the able. He’s so goddamn tired. He’d hardly slept last night, he’d been so excited. Now look at him. He’s fucked everything up.

 

-|-

 

Cas had almost gone when Sam had called. He had attempted to give the brothers privacy with their father so had not listened into the conversation. Sam’s prayer had been so unexpected he’d nearly turned up there immediately. He waited though. Sam could be mistaken about Dean’s distress. If Sam had asked for Cas to be there on Sam’s behalf he would have gone to support his friend of course, but he couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t needed. If he was Dean himself would have called out for him. 

Cas, where were you? I needed you.

Ah. Castiel realises that he has fucked up. He can sense Dean’s distress now but also his anger. He’s not sure what to do. If he goes to Dean he will surely be coming yelled at yet staying away might be the greater offence. 

He deliberates. He loves Dean and wishes to support him. That he can only do if he is in Dean’s presence. 

 

-|-

 

Sam has just left. To go to track down their father. Make sure he doesn’t stumble across something he shouldn’t. 

All Dean wants to do is turn off his brain for a few hours. Sleep will be impossible and the thought of going searching for the whiskey and running into his dad or Sam… He can’t win.

There’s a sound like wind or the movement of clothes. Dean knows it’s the quiet shuffle of wings. He imagines that he can recognise Cas’ but maybe it’s something else. Either way he knows that Cas is there. Normally he finds the sound comforting. Not today. Today Cas has been the furthest thing from comforting that Dean can think of.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I wished to give you personal space.”

Dean laughs. It’s not a happy sound.

“The one fucking time.” 

“I’m sorry-”

“Save it. Look just go, go look for Jack. It’s probably better if you weren’t here right now anyways.”

“Dean. Please, I…” Love you. Don’t want to go. Need you to forgive me. Am so, so sorry. 

He says none of these things. He just stares at the human he loves and wishes for the thousandth time he knew how to communicate with these strange, passionate creatures. Or just Dean. If only he knew what to say to Dean.

“Go, Cas. Find Jack. I don’t want you here.” 

Cas nods and disappears. 

Dean thinks back to yesterday morning when they’d been fighting about Cas staying for an extra day or two before hitting the road again. Dean had wanted him to stay. He’d convinced the stubborn angel. They’d spent all afternoon in bed and then spent the evening with Sam in the kitchen, cooking. It had been the best day he’d had in a long time and easily the best since Cas had come back to him. Then Jody had called. 

That was yesterday.

You want him to go, Dean tells himself. You told him to go. 

It doesn’t stop him from feeling abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much angst, please don't hate me!


	8. Youngest Son

John runs into Sam outside the kitchen. He’d eventually given up on waiting and decided to go pick a bedroom. That’s if they still wanted him living here. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Sam nods.

“Okay. You still said it though.” 

Fair.

Sam continues, “I’ve got something I wanted to show you actually.”

 

-|-

 

The Impala is still gorgeous. Dean’s taken good care of her although he didn’t expect anything less. 

The garage itself is spectacular and he’ll have a proper look around later but right now he’s only got eyes for one thing.

He sits in the driver seat and she roars to life. At least she’s happy to see me, he thinks ruefully. That’s not quite fair on his boys. He knows it’s his fault. Still it’s nice to know this reunion can’t turn into a shit show.

“I missed you,” he tells her. 

Had he told they boys he missed them? He should have. Even though in his mind he only saw them a few days ago somewhere deep inside is the knowledge it’s been far longer.

Sam’s in the passenger seat and it feels wrong, that’s Dean’s spot.

“We can’t take her anywhere, Dean would-”

“How many times have you died?” 

John can’t look at Sam.

“Me? Eh, between four or eight, no nine. Depending on how you want to count it.” Sam closes his eyes and waits for John’s outburst. This is going to be it. 

It doesn’t come.

“And Dean?” John’s voice is so quite Sam almost didn’t hear him. He nearly wishes he didn’t.

“At least 10.” Sam takes a deep breath before continuing, “But eh, one time we got trapped in Groundhog Day, and, em, Dean died. Repeatedly. I lost count at over 100. Archangel pretending to be a Trickster.” 

Sam eventually summons the courage to look at John. His father is shaking silently. He can’t tell if there are tears and he looks away before he finds out. His anger has dissipated. He’d never seen John look this broken.

“Gabriel that was his name. The Archangel. It was my fault; he wanted to teach me a lesson. I’m saying this all wrong.” Sam breaths deeply again. It’s calming. 

“I know you knew about what Azazel did to me.” John gasps but Sam ignores him and continues, “Turns out it was part of a much larger plan. I don’t even know if Azazel really knew.

“Dean and I, we’re special. In the ‘God has plans for us’ sort of way. He won’t fucking leave us alone. But back then… Archangels need true vessels. They’re far more powerful than regular angels so they need bodies that can contain them. Michael, the head archangel up in Heaven and Lucifer were going to have a show down, full on Apocalypse. To do that they needed vessels. Winchester bloodline.” 

Sam drops his head in shame. 

“Dean was Michael’s and I was… Lucifer’s. We stopped them. I said yes to Lucifer and then dragged us both down to Hell along with Michael, and… Adam.” 

“Adam’s dead?” John’s voice breaks. 

Sam can’t look. He just nods.

“Dean never gave in, never said yes to Michael so he used another Winchester instead. We were all trapped in the cage, Lucifer’s prison inside Hell.”

“Lucifer was trapped in Hell?” 

“He hadn’t run it in ages. God had supposedly realised he’d gotten too powerful and thrown him in there. So the four of us were trapped there. Cas got me out. The next time we went there was years later and only Lucifer was left.”

“God?”

“That’s a whole other story.”

“You went back to that place?”

Sam looks out the window at the garage wall; he doesn’t want to see his father’s reaction even in his peripheral vision.

“We needed his help.”

“You needed the FUCKING Devil’s help? What the fuck for!?”

Sam winces.

“There was a bigger evil that needed stopped, and we stopped it. That’s what we do!” His anger is returning. 

“THE FUCKING DEVIL SAM, you were his- you said YES?”

“I SAVED THE WORLD. I was tortured in Hell by Lucifer. And then I had hallucinations about him for YEARS. I went mad, I nearly died from insomnia until Cas and Dean worked out a way to save me.” Sam takes another deep breath - it’s not calming - and finally turns to John, “We needed Lucifer and seeing him again is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. You have no right to judge me. NONE. I know you think I’m some kind of monster. ‘Save me or kill me’ right? Well Dean saved me. And he’d kept saving me and together we’ve saved the world. We’re GOOD.” 

Sam is panting angrily. John’s eyes are downcast and Sam hopes it’s in shame. 

“How many times have you done that?” 

“What?”

“Saved the world?” 

“A few.” 

‘A few’. It’s said defensively. Sam’s not sure how John could critique them for that at least but he doesn’t want to find out.

“That’s your job? Saving the world.”

“World’s still here so I guess it must be.” 

“I…”

“We’ve saved billions of people, dad. We’ve saved them again and again.”

Sam somehow desperately finds himself seeking his father’s approval. That’s a role he’s seldom been in before. He sits up a little straighter. No, he doesn’t need it. He’s never needed it. Unlike Dean.

“Dad, you’ve not been here. You don’t know what it’s been like.”

“I just want to know-”

“I told you and you freaked out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough. That shit with Cas? We told you he was family, fucking family dad, and you still didn’t trust him. Trust us. You can’t do that. We can’t tell you all the things that have happened if you doubt us and the decisions we made!”

“Okay.” 

“Okay.”

Sam is still angry but he’s also confused. John… he’s different. He’s so much sadder, less stubborn, he actually listened to Sam. That’s… new.

“I never meant for Dean to tell you that.” Sam is pulled out of his thoughts by something else that’s new: honesty. 

“Well he did.”

“I didn’t want you to go dark, Sammy. You aren’t evil; I didn’t want you to become that.” 

“I did. Dean has too. We’ve both done terrible things. We came back from them. If you can’t accept that I don’t think you can stay here.”

“I’m going to need time.”

“No sir. You’re going to decide now. Either you make peace with it or you don’t. I can’t let Dean get hurt like that again.”

John knows that Sam isn’t referring to earlier. He’s taking about something else that’s happened since he’s been gone. One of the many, many things that have happened since he’s been gone. They’ve died 18 times. At least. They’ve come back to life 18 times. At least. They’ve been where he’s been over and over and over… 

How do they live with it?

John stares at Sam. He doesn’t see his son. Doesn’t see a geeky kid. He doesn’t see the stupid hair or the wrinkles that weren’t there before. 

He sees the hard set of his shoulders and the anger in his eyes. He sees someone who survived torture in Hell and in his mind. Someone obviously powerful and terrifying. He sees a stranger. 

He doesn’t want to see a stranger anymore.

“I can live with it.”  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments! They keep me going


	9. Parental Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: double check the tags

“Are absolutely you sure it’s a Winchester level job?”

Was 4am too late or too early for this shit?

“Jody, I wouldn’t have called if I wasn’t.” 

Jody sighs like she’s annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night to deal with other people’s nonsense because… yeah.

“This is a really bad time for them.”

“For the Winchesters?! Does that mean it’s true that Lucifer has a kid? Is there gonna be another Apocalypse?”

Jody pinches her nose and turns on her sheriff voice. 

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Holy shit! There is?!” 

UGH

“George, I will get a hold of them but so help me God, if you ever end up in a jail cell again I will pull strings to make sure you do time.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Meet there at six.” Jody hangs up and stares at the phone in her hand. It could wait until morning. 

I am sorry boys. Enjoy the last of your peace.

 

-|-

 

Dean considers not answering Jody. She’s probably checking up to see how the reunion is going and he doesn’t want to admit that it is exactly the shit show she prophesised. 

But he has nothing better to do. Not answering means he has to properly wake himself up and go get breakfast. Then take a shower and start the day. He’ll inevitably run into his father at some point.

Yesterday was one of the worst days he’s had recently – it might actually be cracking the top 20 but that’s hardly an achievement – and there’s always the potential for today to be worse.

“Hey, Jody? What’s up?”

“Nothing good. I’m really sorry about interrupting your time with your dad-”

“It’s fine. Already managed to fuck that one up.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry-” It’s way too early to deal with this. It’s what? 7 am? Dean needs coffee before he can even start to process everything that happened yesterday. 

“Not your fault. What can I help you with Jody?”

“There’s a shit show going down in Avoca, Iowa, not far from you.” At least his life wasn’t the only thing turning out to be a shit show.

“Aren’t you closer to that one? I get that-”

“You thing I’d be calling you right now because you’re close? You’re an idiot, Dean.”

“So they say.” When isn’t he being an idiot? Okay, wow, he realises that he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. You woke up without Cas, a little voice supplies and nope, that’s also going into the things he’ll deal with once he gets coffee in his system pile. Probably not even then, the voice chips in and yeah, fuck nope, that is too much self-awareness for Dean to ever handle. 

“A friend of mine, he’s a moron but I trust him, said it was a job for you guys.” 

Dean can’t hold back a groan. Other hunters had only called them in a handful of times and none of them had been good. 

“What is it?” 

“Apparently there’s thirty demons holed up in a farm not far south of there.”

“Thirty?!” This day just got worse.

“At least. Six hunters died trying to take them down last night, Dean.” 

“Six hunters tried to take on thirty demons?” Dean’s impressed at their balls but it was sheer suicidal stupidity. 

“No nine hunters did. Three made it out. And don’t mock. The most I can rustle up to help is five including myself and Claire, so plus the four of you we’re not doing any better.” 

“Three.” Jody wonders just how badly the reunion with John had gone. 

“Sorry. Well, I like those odds even less.” 

“What’s with the no show?”

“People like to stay out of your way.” Dean scoffs. That sounds about right, he thinks. 

“Can’t argue with that.”

Jody considers filling Dean in on the plan and staying out of Winchester business but no matter how much she acts like their antics annoy her deep down she doesn’t really mind. You put up with a lot from family, and you’re there for them when they need you. 

However, if she says that to Dean he’s likely to run a mile. She needs to subtly dig and comfort delicately. Or she hopes she does. 

“Look, Dean, I know it’s none of my business but your dad is an amazing hunter. We could really use him.”

“Dad’ll be there. Hunting might be good for him.” It helped mom get back into the swing of things and as much as Dean isn’t looking forward to it he knows leaving John behind in the bunker isn’t an option. 

“But you said three…”

“Cas and I… We had a falling out.” 

“You moron. What did you do?” 

Jody was ready to be there for Dean for any John-related problems but if he’d fucked things up with that angel she’s gonna be pissed off. Seriously, the boy had a literal angel running after him yet he still treated Cas like a bothersome pet sometimes, oblivious to the fact he was hurting him. By all rights it should be Dean following around the angel in awe and wonder. Jody didn’t understand Cas’ weird devotion. Then again Jody didn’t really understand Cas. Most angels would have smited? Smote? Dean by now. Love did strange things to people and apparently celestial beings too. 

Still, she’d thought that they were getting better. Working out the relationship issues. 

“I didn’t do anything! He’s just out looking for Jack. It’s probably for the best since dad’s here.” So it is about John.

“Does your dad know?”

“NO.” Dean swallows and fights down the panic. “If you could not mention that to him, until I tell him… I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m not going to out you. But you can’t push Cas away because of your father and you can’t go back to living in the closet.” 

“I know, I know. I haven’t been in the closet for years and it’s already horrible.” 

Dean stops talking immediately. Jody can tell he revealed more than he ever meant to.

“I’m here for you. If you need me.” This is exactly what she was trying to avoid, but she has to let Dean know that real family has his back. “I won’t judge and I won’t think any less of you.” 

Dean’s gripping the phone tighter and tighter. He can feel the pulse in his thumb.

“I just don’t want to lose him too. It’s worse when they come back and you lose them again,” Dean confesses. 

Jody knows this. After her son had come back, however twisted he’d turned out to be, saying goodbye had been twice as hard the second time. She can’t imagine the miracle of having a loved one returned fully to her, only for them to be ripped away again. After Mary…

“John’s not going to die. We’ll keep him safe.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

It takes Jody a moment. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’d…?” The car, yesterday morning, when she’d mentioned Abbie and Sara… his tone hadn’t been good. She hadn’t even connected it to Dean. She’d assumed John already knew and was working through his own issues about Dean. But he’d been so desperate to see his children she’d thought that he was getting over it. She’d thought that the news that it was more widely accepted would help him get through. She’s thought wrong. Thank God she hadn’t said anything else.

“I don’t think it’ll be good. He was never… The kids at some of the schools would be worse. Picking on anyone they thought was gay, saying they should die. Dad never said anything like that. But… He’d still say stuff like, like ‘queer’ or ‘cocksucker’… One time I was going on this date and he told me to stop putting so much gel in my hair or she’d think I was ‘some kind of faggot.’ That’s the worst he ever said to me. I was 15.”

This is what he told himself: It meant nothing. So many kids have it so much worse. Dad hadn’t even realised what he’d said. 

This is the truth: It stuck in his mind for months. It haunted him the first time he kissed a guy at 16. When he was 18 and had sex with a guy for the first time, right after they’d finished he’d thought about it and ran home and told dad that they had to skip town because he’d gotten in some trouble. It popped into his head all these years later when he was with Cas one night and he’d had to hold Dean for hours and remind him he was loved.

“That’s... people change.”

“I don’t know. Maybe if he’d been here I could have broken it to him gradually. For him it’s been a few days and it’s pretty clear he thought of it as an insult back then. It’s not even… that Cas is a man … he’s an incorporeal, genderless, celestial consciousness in some guy’s empty body. Who dad already hates. How I am supposed to break that to him? 

“And it’s gonna be so sudden for him. He’s just come from my mid-twenties. You should have seen me in my twenties, Jody.” Who Dean used to be and who Dean is now are practically opposites. He sighs and it’s almost a laugh.

She smiles a little. Most of the time she’s know him Dean’s either been focused on a case or fixated on Castiel but she can imagine him using his charm and swagger back in easier, happier days for things others than worming him way onto crime scenes.  
“Showing off a girl on each arm?” Jody can imagine Dean being like that.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles at the memories, “And a guy whenever no one would see. I mean dad knows me as this womanising, one night only, no strings attached type of man and now…” Now I have Cas. 

Or I did. Someone to make me coffee in the mornings, to order me a slice of pie, someone who lets me steal their food, puts up with the same cassettes over and over again, someone I’m always trying to make laugh, or to fill in on some pop culture reference they’ve missed, which he pretends to get annoyed at but he’s re-watched the Lion King five times now so I know he doesn’t really.

“You’re not that anymore. That’s not a bad thing. Monogamy – stability - isn’t a crime.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m bi.” Dean sounds so small. Jody wants to scoop him up in her arms and hug him. It’s impossible, she’s in a different state and he’s a giant. Still, she can have her wishes.

“He knows you. He loves you. It shouldn’t matter that you play for both teams.” 

Dean decides not to tell her what John had called them last night. His love is already uncertain. This might be too much. He’ll be damned if he’s the one to drive John away. If, by some miracle, John can forgive them for all the things they’ve done, if they get their dad back, if Sammy gets the chance to have a dad who isn’t driven half mad with revenge, if they can actually be a family - Dean isn’t going to be the one to risk it. He’s lived in the closet for more than half his life. He can do it again. He just hopes that Cas keeps putting up with his bullshit, that’s if he even forgives Dean at all. 

“Maybe. Thanks for calling. I needed some parental advice but there are thirty demons that are more important than what we’re talking about right now.” Dean’s tone has completely shifted. All his vulnerability is gone, replaced with a no nonsense hunter, a soldier. 

Hang on, ‘parental’? 

“Jody? You still there?”

“Um… eh, yes! Yes I am!” Why the hell are her eyes welling up? This isn’t professional.

“Okay, fill me in.”

Dean got up and headed to the kitchen. Dad or not, he was going to need coffee for this. He really wishes it was one of the days Cas was home so he could bring Dean coffee in bed and they could-

Fuck.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, what is this???? Plot developments???? In my fic!!!!???? Or there will be at least. Finally.
> 
> Believe it or not but I'm going to start examining aspects of John's return other than it causing angst for the boys (Hallelujah! I can hear you all breath a sigh of relief). I want to immerse him in the craziness of their lives. There's also going to be a bit more legendary!Winchesters because I can't help myself.


	10. Trust

The car journey is quiet. Dean has Pink Floyd on - that’s a scary omen - but in Baby loud music counts as silence anyways. 

John’s in the back which feels all wrong to everyone but no one’s going to do anything about it. 

“So go over the plan again,” Sam says to Dean and John takes this as his cue to zone out. They must’ve gone over the plan fifty times already. It hasn't go any saner in any of the retellings. 

They’re driving off on a hunt. It should be familiar, at least, but it’s not. John feels like he’s going off to die. No one takes on thirty demons and lives but Sam and Dean don’t seem too bothered. To John it’s still not something you do. If you hear of that many demons in one place you hightail out of there. Even more ridiculous is the fact that nine hunters already gave it a shot.

Then there was the way Dean had casually said: ‘they called us in.’ That didn’t sit well in John’s stomach. There weren’t people you called in for this kind of stuff, and - if there were - John didn’t like that they were his sons. 

“This’d be a lot easier if Cas was here,” Sam says. It’s obvious that he’s hinting at something and that’s interesting because John doesn’t know what. 

“He’s not.” Dean has been defensive about Castiel so far but he seems angry now. John can’t work out if its because of him or not. Maybe it's something Castiel has done. 

“Why not?” John chances the question. He ignores Sam’s pointed look. He knows that this is exactly what he said he wouldn’t do. Though they have to admit that after how protective they had been of the angel, the fact he isn’t with them is suspicious. 

Dean meets his father’s gaze in the rear view mirror. He thinks John looks ever so slightly smug.

“He’s out trying to find a lead about who brought you back.” John's smugness vanishes and Dean can’t help but feel self-satisfied. He’d rarely been able to bring his father down growing up. Neither Sam nor him had ever been able to do it successfully in the past, not that’d he’d really tried. Now it’s almost too easy. They both have the upper had to such an extent they can make him feel like shit by dropping a single detail about their lives. Dean has every intention of using this method to keep John in line. 

Strangely, Sam doesn’t. Dean isn’t exactly sure what he missed but he doesn’t like it. Its Sam and Dean against the world. Yeah, he’s glad dad’s back and that John and Sam are finally getting along for the first time since Sam was 10 but he feels… Wait is he… jealous? That’s… new. Despite what Sam may believe Dean knows that Sam has always been dad’s favourite. Dean did everything he could to win John’s approval but Sam never had to, never tried to, and John kept loving him anyways. Even after Sam left for Stanford… if Dean had pulled a stunt like that John would have dragged him back in two seconds. Then even with Sam gone John kept missing his youngest son and pushing Dean away. No, Dean knew he placed second. He’d made peace with that a long time ago, when Sam was still in diapers. It couldn’t be jealousy.

Sam and John start a conversation. Some hunting story from the town they were driving through. They were talking easily while Dean could hardly look at John, let alone chat with him. That was it. That was the problem.

Dean had spent more of his life than he’d like to admit making sure the two of them didn’t kill one another and now Sam was the one shooting them both warning looks when they snapped at one another. The dynamics were off. Hell, the car was a visual metaphor with everyone sitting in the wrong seats. Dean, driving and leading. Sam, shotgun and mediator. And John. John in the back tagging along not quite unwillingly but making it clear he wasn’t happy. 

Dean laughs and shakes his head. Sam gives him a quizzical look. Dean just shrugs.

It’s funny how things change, and he’s gotta find humour where he can. 

 

-|-

 

“Claire! It’s good to see you!” Dean is grinning happily while the blonde girl scowls at him. John can see her looking at the car, searching for someone. 

“Where’s Cas?” She asks as she pulls Dean into a hug then smiles up at him.

“He, eh, couldn’t make it,” Dean explains. 

“Figures.” John can’t decide if she’s sad or not. She just looks mad. Sam shrugs with a small smile on his face. She rolls her eyes before hugging him too. 

“John. Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Jody says from a foot or so away. No hugs for them. “This is my daughter, Claire.” 

The blonde girl just glances at him and pointedly turns back to Sam. Brat. 

Wait… Claire? This was the girl with the angel for a father? 

"How you holding up, Dean?" Jody puts a hand on each of his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. It's clear Jody takes no shit from his boys but he wants to know what she's talking about. Did Dean loose someone recently? Someone they haven't told him about? It's possible. There hasn't really been a chance for either of them to fill him in since he got back. 

“I'm good." Dean rolls his eyes. "So when are we heading out?” 

“Now. Did you have dinner? I packed sandwiches to eat on the way there if you didn’t.” John laughs at that and realises everyone is staring at him.

“Rude,” Claire snaps.

“Jody’s cooking is amazing.” Dean’s glaring at him.

Sam just takes the plastic box and thanks her. 

“Just get in the car, dad,” Sam says pushing past him.

 

-|-

 

He’d forgotten that Jody was a sheriff. It seemed like an unusual job for a hunter. Most hunters he knew had a turbulent relationship with the law although he’d always been extra careful. Sam and Dean didn’t deserve to go on the run because he’s got caught killing a human-looking vampire or breaking and entering to stop a ghost. 

It’s only now that he realises how strange that decision was. Most hunters came from families that had been hunting for generations and he’d met a few who were raised completely off the grid, so that there was hardly any official record of them. He could have done that, but he hadn’t. Why? He’d entertained thoughts of going back to a normal life after killing the Yellow Eyed Demon, especially after Adam was born, but he hadn’t made any preparations for that life. There was never any spare money, he sold the house, took them in and out of school randomly… It didn’t make sense, even to him.

Maybe nowadays, when hunters could be sheriffs or whatever Geoff and Sally’s day jobs had been, that decision made sense. But back then, back before three days and a decade ago? He didn’t know what he was thinking. He’d told Sam that he’d never wanted this life for them, but he’d never equipped them for anything different. That feels like a pretty big failing for a father to make. 

Anyways, given that Jody was a sheriff and she’d been the one to call them in he’d assumed that she’d be leading the hunt. She wasn’t, as soon as they got to the meeting place and she got out of her car she started deferring to Sam and Dean. 

They were waiting now, for three more hunters to turn up. It’s ridiculous, nine hunters against thirty demons hadn’t gone well last night and it sure as Hell wouldn’t go any different tonight. 

“That’s them.” 

John’s startled to see that he recognises the car. It’s Sally’s. Three people get out, Sally, Liza and the brown haired man from the bar. 

“Sally… where’s Geoff?” John knows the answer to his question. 

Liza makes a beeline straight for Claire and the two girls are clinging to one another. He can hear Claire mumble softly to her. 

With Herculean effort Sally manages so smile sadly at him but it turns into a grimace immediately after.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Jody tells Sally, clasping her on her shoulder. She just nods. 

“We’re gonna get the bastards that did this,” Dean says from where he’d leaning on the Impala. Sally stands a little straighter and narrows her eyes.

“You’re really them?”

“I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean.” Sam hesitates, “And our father, John.” John doesn’t really want to explain to Sam and Dean how he knows this woman. It feels weirdly personal. He invaded her last night at home with her husband. Hunters die all the time. Life expectancy isn’t high but there’s something shocking about this one. Something tragic. Half the hunters raised in the life don’t even make it to thirty; Geoff had been far older than that and he’d survived in the business for over twenty years he’d said. It’s half of what Bobby had but by anyone else’s standards that’s pretty good going. It shouldn't make him feel so sad, Geoff had a good run. It matches how long John survived before he bit it. Sam and Dean have nearer thirty years which is impressive and then John remembers. Sam and Dean didn’t survive it.

“You’re that guy, the guy from the bar! Who wanted to know about the Winchesters!” The brown-haired man exclaims. He’s looking back and forth between the boys and John with a comical expression on his face. It would be funny if a man who took John in and gave him shelter hadn’t just died.

“What bar? What did you tell him?” Dean’s suddenly very close to the brown-haired man, Sam standing a little behind. They seem to overshadow the much smaller man.

“You know, hunting stories, about … you two… the Apocalypses… that you had an angel who… helps you…” The man looks like he’s shitting himself. Sally taps John’s arm like she wants him to go and stop them but he really doesn’t want to get into the middle of that. They’re… intimidating, even to him.

Jody, on the other hand, doesn’t care. 

“Boys! This is my friend George so you better quit it.” Sam backs down instantly. Dean doesn’t.

“Those stories of yours? You keep them to yourself in future.”

“Yessir.” Dean blinks and steps back. George swallows. 

Sam and Jody are talking quietly to Sally now. Claire and Liza are still huddled together. He wonders if the girls are going to be a liability but decides they wouldn’t be here if they were. 

Dean spots the girls and walks towards them. Liza nudges closer to Claire’s side. 

“I’m Dean. I’m Claire’s kind of uncle.” 

Liza holds out her hand. Her eyes go wide when Dean takes it.

“Liza. Claire’s talked about you a lot.” 

“Same about you. Although Claire didn’t tell me how beautiful you were. Bad call, kiddo, might have to steal her.” John keeps his face calm at that by sheer force of will. Liza can’t be much over 20, at the very oldest. She seems a little young for Dean to be flirting with her. Dean hasn’t changed at all but now it seems kind of sleazy, especially since he just referred to himself as Claire’s uncle and Liza is the same age as her. He knows that Dean hasn’t exactly had the chance to settle down but he’d hoped that Dean had aged up at least. It's... disappointing. He hoped that his sons would reach this age but in his mind they had wives and kids. Hunting families. Not lonely like Sam and whatever greatest hits of his early twenties that Dean is holding onto. 

Both girls don’t seem to care though. All three of them are laughing. Is there a joke he’s missing? That makes him feel a little better.

“You gonna be okay with that arm?” Dean gestures at Liza’s cast. 

“I’ve managed so far.” 

“If Cas was here he could’ve healed it.” John files healing powers under angel powers but then he does a double take because Claire’s voice had venom in it. John can’t imagine having your father stolen away by an angel but half an hour ago the first thing she’d asked was about him. Contradictory, is what it is. Maybe the girl just has mixed feelings. 

“Hey, it’s not his fault. He’d be here if he could.” Dean looks at his feet. It’s like he can’t meet Claire’s eyes. He’s guilty? She picks up on this and must know more than she does because she’s suddenly very close to Dean. They’re whispering in one another’s ears with Dean bent really far down. 

Without warning she shoves him away but she’s the one that ends getting pushed backwards. To make up for this she punches him in the arm. Hard. 

“You idiot!” 

“I know!”

“Fix it!” 

“I’m trying!” 

Everyone’s looking at Claire and Dean now. Dean looks up and in the split second before he’d registered his audience John saw the unfiltered shame on his face. 

Whatever happened between Dean and Castiel and Claire it makes Dean look utterly defeated and totally ashamed. Something so far beyond guilt John wonders what Dean could possibly have done.

Dean flinches, physically recoils, when he looks at his father and that is one of the most painful things John’s ever experienced. 

“Right, that’s us! Ready to go!” Sam yells too loudly. Deflecting the attention away from Dean. He’d seen that look too then. But he’d known what it meant. 

There is something going on here that John’s missing. Something massive. He’s burning with curiosity. What are his sons keeping from him and why? How can he find out? But they’d chosen not to trust him and that has to be for a reason. After all Sam words about trusting them they’re doing the same thing to him. 

Trust has to go both ways.


	11. Watch Over Us

Claire, Liza, Sam and Dean go in the Impala. John goes with George and Sally with Jody. Splitting up is part of the plan but John doesn’t like it. They seem even smaller apart. 

 

-|-

 

George is jittery and nervous. It puts John on edge. 

“So you’re back from the dead?” 

“Yes,” John grits out. 

Their conversation ends there.

 

-|-

 

“Can they really do this?” 

Jody shrugs.

“Probably. They’ve faced worse odds.” Sally glances at her. Jody can see her thinking: worse odds than this!? 

“Is it true?" Sally struggles to get her words out. "The... things they say about them?”

“Some of its true, some of it isn’t.” Jody doesn’t elaborate.

“And the angel? That part’s true isn’t it? Claire said that if he was there he could have healed Liza?” 

Jody stays silent. 

“My son… he’d gone. Because of them. I always thought that angels would be good, but they’re not are they?”

Jody doesn't like to talk about them like this. People try to get her to do it often enough. But she can comfort this woman who's lost so much.

“One of them is.” 

Sally wonders what it must be like, an angel to help and guide you. Like the stories she used to believe about them. Before she saw that they were really blind soldiers. Before they took him.

Jody wonders if Sam and Dean have killed this woman’s son.

 

-|-

 

Dean can’t remember the last time he was this nervous about a hunt. He doesn’t know why. Thirty demons is a tall order even for them but they’ve been up against worse odds. 

“You okay?” 

“As I’ll ever be, Sammy.” 

Sam just grunts. It's obvious he doesn't believe him. The last thing Dean needs is Sam worrying about him. 

“Seriously, Sam, I’m good. It’s just… dad. You know?” 

Sam gets that. 

“I do.”

 

-|-

 

Sam is worrying. Something is very off with Dean and he’d missing having Cas as back up. He’s not got a bad feeling exactly. Their plan is pretty simple. The demons are holed up in a big farm house and a few out buildings right on the edge of a forest. 

Liza and Claire are going to be seen and lure them into the forest where Sam and Dean will take whatever ones come after them out. Jody and Sally are going to salt and devil trap the outbuilding while John and George do the same for the main house. After Liza and Claire got a few demons into the forest they’re going to go and help. Hopefully with the demons attention on the forest the others won’t be seen. Then a few exorcisms and job done. 

Last night they’d done something similar. There was a hut out in the woods where they’d lured five demons to. They’d exorcised the demons and went to meet up with the other hunters who were taking on the demons left behind. That was when they’d realised that they’d severely miscalculated the number of demons. The six hunters armed with anti-possession bullets had been met with an army instead of a few stragglers. 

Back in the bunker they’d given John a long silver dagger and told him it could kill demons. The look on John’s face after they’d told him it was an angel blade is one Sam is going to remember forever. A combination of shock, disgust and fascination. 

In the bunker Sam and Dean had tried not to let John see how concerned they really were. Even in this new world with its ridiculously high demon population a gathering of that size wasn’t good. 

Sam isn’t that worried about their father. He can take care of himself and with the angel blade he’s pretty much safe unless one of them can beat him in a fight – unlikely – or he’s overpowered. The second option is a possibility Sam’s ignoring. 

Claire and Jody and the others… He doesn’t like that the plan leaves them so defenceless. Especially Claire. She’s uncomfortably similar to Dean when it comes to her hunting approach, which is summarised by pretending to be invincible. Even Dean is acting cagey and Sam knows he’s not gonna be at his best tonight. 

So not its not a bad feeling, its just a bad situation. 

Cas, I know you can hear me. I know you and Dean have had a fight but look out for him. He’s acting hot headed and stupid and he’s gonna get himself killed. And Claire, I know you always listen for her prayers but just have your ears open tonight okay? 

Please come if we need your help.

 

-|-

 

Cas, I know you’re still mad at me but watch over us tonight okay? Watch over Sammy and Claire. 

 

-|-

 

Dean’s an idiot, Cas, but you’ve gotta forgive him. Being in the closet sucks and I know you don’t understand because you’re all Holy and genderless and whatever and don’t have any of that shit to deal with but Dean does. And it’s not easy and it makes you do stupid things. Give him a second chance or whatever number he’s on now. Please. He’s basically my stepfather so you two can’t be fighting. My family’s messed up enough as it is. I’m totally guilt tripping you by the way. 

 

-|-

 

In the sky above Avoca, Iowa, an angel looks fondly down upon his humans.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a super short chapter and I know I said Cas would show up before now but the story is fighting me quite a bit right now. 
> 
> I'm gonna update again tomorrow to make up for it instead of my usual three days. Again, I'm sorry! 
> 
> (Never attempt something this long without a beta reader. I've got a friend who doesn't even watch the show helping me out at the moment but its not ideal so please be patient with me)


	12. Inevitable

It all goes to shit.

The demons don’t leave the house. 

Sam ends up acting as bait to draw them out. Then all the demons chase after them.

Somehow everyone except Claire and Liza end up salted inside one of the outbuildings. 

“What the hell do we do now?” John asks. He keeps the panic out of his voice.

Dean grins a little manically. 

“We let them in.” 

 

-|-

 

“So what happened next?” 

The bar is bustling. Hunters are gathered around George but they aren’t staying quiet for his story. They're cutting in and calling out. With the revelation that the man some of them had met a few days ago was John Winchester returned from the dead there’d been an outcry that lasted twenty minutes.

“Dean Winchester put us all in this circle of salt in the centre of the room and I’m thinking we’re goners. We really are. There’s no way we’re getting out alive. Then he headed to the door, broke the salt line and just let them in.” 

George is usually a repeater of tales. He encourages the stories of others and slips in a few of his own more outgoing hunts. Never before has he had aan audience like this. Never has a story to tell like this.

“No way.”

“That’s suicidal.”

“No one’s that stupid.”

“Everyone quiet! Let the man speak.” 

“I’ve never been so scared in my life. We were completely surrounded. Demons everywhere. Dean Winchester was fighting three at once but more were going after him. Then Sam Winchester began an exorcism and I’m thinking: what’s the point? They’re just gonna run away or smoke out of there. All that’s gonna happen is we’ll run into them outside.

“Then the doors slammed closed. Those fuckers were writhing and twisting - you know how it is - a minute later all of them were dead. Liza, Geoff and Sally’s girl, and Claire, Jody’s daughter, had still been outside and salted the door. Saved all our lives. Tapped the demons inside for the exorcism.”

“So the Winchesters didn’t do anything?” 

George suppresses a groan. 

“Did you miss the part where I said Dean Winchester fought three demons in hand to hand combat?” 

That reminder gets many impressed looks. Going one on one with a demon is nearly impossible and three is unheard of. If it wasn't a Winchester no one would believe it.

“Yeah but-” 

“And the fact that they’d killed their way in there in the first place? They got all the way from the woods into that barn with us.” George had always been a little in awe of the Winchesters; he’d be the first to admit that, but now there’s something else. He’d going to defend them from now on. The darker gossip, about the demon blood and King of Hell and the like isn’t something he’ll ever talk about again. He wants people to know the truth, he’s seen what heroes they are and he won’t even stand for people down playing their abilities as hunters anymore. “Anyways I’m not done. The good bit comes next.”

“Get on with it then!” There's sputters of laughter.

“I am! So we’re all sorting ourselves out and there’s a scream from outside. A demon has Claire backed up against a wall and gaining. Liza was on the ground, bleeding all over the place, passed out or dead.

“I blink - I swear I just blink for a millisecond - and the demon’s away from Claire and being held up against the wall by a man in a trench coat. Feet off the ground, just hanging in this man’s arms. He spoke and he had this deep voice. He asked the demon why they were there. And the demon answered. I didn’t understand what he said but the man seemed satisfied. Then he just put his hand on the demon’s head and there was bright light and you could tell the demon was gone.”

That gains the most shocked looks of the night. People don't believe in Castiel. People barely believe in the WInchesters. Only a few truly believe in both. You have to give something up if you accept all the things you hear about them. You have to acknowledge that the universe - or God - has a plan and its incomprehensible. Sally and Geoff did it because it was better than thinking their son gave up his life in an unholy war. George because he's seen them and it can't be denied. Most have less to go on.

Then there are those who refuse to believe.

“The angel?”

“It’s real?” 

“No fucking way!”

“So the angel looks at Liza on the ground, she’s in Claire’s arms and I’m thinking that she’s gone but the angel just puts two fingers on her forehead like this,” George demonstrates on the rugged hunter beside him who tilts backwards in his chair away from the contact. “She just woke up! Completely fine. All the blood was gone. I heard Claire mumble, ‘Thank you, Castiel’ and that’s when I finally realised who this guy was. I mean we’ve all heard the rumours about the Winchesters but I didn’t think that... he showed up to save their skins. I'd always assumed he was some kind of heavenly messenger if he did exist. But no he fought right there with us.

“For an angel he was really weird. He was smiling and he gave Claire a kiss on the top of her head. Who’s ever heard of an angel being nice? A soon as he killed that demon it was like the whole ‘mighty warrior of heaven’ shindig they’ve all got going on just switched off. Never seen anything like it. Then he walked over to the Winchesters, Sam and Dean, not their father, put his hands on their shoulders and they were gone. Space of blink! Same as before. Left everyone else just standing there, and oh boy, was John Winchester pissed.” 

There is a dramatic pause. Everyone is processing what they’ve heard, ready to voice their opinions.

“That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard!”

“It’s true! Every word of it! I swear!”

“I believe you!” says a young voice from the back.

“I believe you believe it George but that don’t make it so.” 

“What happened to the demons then? Huh tell me that! If you don’t believe my story where did they go?” George rages.

“Maybe there weren’t any in the first place.”

“Hey now, good hunters died on that hunt,” someone says calmly.

“Morons to try in the first place!” 

“You take that back!”

George sighs and excuses himself. Hunters are short tempered and from his place in the middle of the crowd if it turned into a fight he would be left with no escape. Time to head for the bar and get a refill before watching it all play out.

“What can you tell me about John Winchester?”

George looks at the young man next to him. He doesn’t look old enough to get in but hunter bars tended to have different rules.

“What do you want to know?”

“You said Castiel left him behind? Where did he go?”

“Weird you’d ask that. I remember Jody saying he’d better drive the Impala back to the bunker and gave him directions. If you need to find him she knows how to get there.” 

The boy smiles. George shivers. He’s a little unnerving.

“No, I know where that is.” 

“You do? Who are you?” 

“Jack,” he says, and then he’s gone. 

In the blink of an eye.

 

-|- 

 

“Cas, where the hell are we?”

“A ditch.” 

“I noticed. I mean why are we here?”

Sam knows that not two minutes ago, before they landed in this field in fact, Dean and Cas were in the middle of a serious fight. And yet here they were, bickering like an old married couple without a care in the world. Their relationship gives Sam whiplash.

“The demon said that after Jack pulled your father from Hell some of the demons decided to run away.”

“Wait so Jack brought dad back?” Sam asks. Questions, he can do questions. That he can focus on. It makes way more sense than trying to figure out Dean and Cas.

“It would appear so yes, although for what purpose I do not know.”

“Why did the demons decide to run?” 

“Apparently Jack’s power intimidated them enough to disobey the new King. They feel that they are on the losing side.” Okay. That's... something. 

“Side of what?” 

“Hell is very unstable currently. A new King without Crowley’s connections is not an advantageous situation.”

Dean speaks up, “what connections?” 

Cas tilts his head to the side in that way of his.

“To you of course. To you and Sam.” He says it like it’s obvious. 

“I think we’re gonna need bit more of an explanation.” Sam’s pretty confused and from the look on Dean’s face he’s not getting any of this.

"You killed Azazel, Sam was the heir, you killed Lilith, you’re largely responsible for Crowley coming to power and maintaining it, you helped him defeat Abaddon and Lucifer, again securing his position. Dean was a Knight of Hell, chosen to bear the Mark of Cain by the first murderer himself. And of course, everthing with Lucifer. The two of have considerable influence of the workings of Hell. Politically your alliance with Crowley was a goldmine.” Sam blinks a few times while Dean stands frozen but Cas continues before either of them can say anything, “imagine that Crowley was still King and you wished your father returned to you. You could have bargained, John could have been retrieved peacefully and returned to you, with minor disturbance. Hell was... at peace under his rule because of his friendship with you. From my understanding Jack killed a swathe of demons and Asmodeus was powerless to do anything. Crowely in the same situation would have perhaps required a favour which you would have fulfilled. Crowley would have shown his power over the Winchesters and all would return to normal. 

"There is no way to interpret this," He gestures around them, "as anything other than a weakness of Asmodeus.”

“Huh,” Sam murmurs. 

“I thought dad was in Heaven,” Dean says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. Cas moves marginally closer to him. 

“He was. From my understanding when Amara returned Mary to you she felt that John deserved to serve out his sentence in Hell before being returned to Heaven.” Dean isn't looking at Cas but Cas is giving him one of his intense stares. It's like the angel is trying to make Dean turn around by force of stare alone. Dean would probably have a pop culture quip at the ready, maybe: 'stop trying to Professor X me, Cas'. But Dean and Cas were fighting so no one said anything.

“You can do that? Go from Hell to Heaven?” Sam doesn’t like to think about the workings of Heaven and Hell too much, it’s make anyone go mad, but this is something he feels like he should have picked up on a long time ago. 

“Of course.” 

“You didn’t tell us?” There's a hint of betrayal in Dean's voice but he remains outwardly calm.

Cas reaches out a hand towards Dean. He steps out reach before he can be touched. 

“I did not like keeping this secret from you Dean, but I felt that it would cause you unnecessary distress.” 

“Know what? Fuck you, Cas!” Dean yells.

“I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right.”

“Well you messed up. I’m pretty fucking distressed right now.”

“I won’t try to spare you from pain in the future. It is abundantly clear to me you care very little about my own distress.”

And that clears away Dean’s anger. It’s gone. He’s hurt Cas. Of course he’s hurt Cas. That’s what he does. That’s what he always does. He’s such a screw up. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s irrelevant,” Cas says, like it is. Like he actually thinks that. 

“You’re such-”

“Hey guys!” Sam interrupts. He does not want to witness another one of their arguments. “You can do this later. Can you please tell us why we’re in this field first?”

“I believe that Jack reconstructed John’s body and placed his soul inside it before returning to Earth. From that point onwards John was essentially alive and transporting a living person out of Hell has different rules. I imagine Jack hit Hell’s barrier and was separated from John. This field, this very ditch in fact, is where John’s body ended up while Jack could reappear where ever he wished. This field is a random location, John could have appeared anywhere. The demons escaped through the accidental passage in the barrier that Jack had created soon after. Although I can sense that it has since been sealed.” 

“Oh well that makes sense.” 

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic, Dean.”

Sam is so sick of them fighting. He's done. Listening to his best friend and brother hate one another is simply something he isn't willing to do anymore.

“Stop it. Both of you. Cas it doesn’t look like anything’s here. Is there anything that we’re missing?” 

“Jack has been here. He was the one to seal the barrier. I can’t tell what he did after this point.” 

“Okay, but that’s good. Why don’t we go back to the bunker and do some research?”

“You two will go; I will continue to look for Jack.” 

“Cas-,” Dean began but they were already in the bunker’s garage. “Son of a bitch!” 

“Hey, at least we’ve got a lead now.” 

“Yeah.” Dean isn't even listening. He looks exhausted and pale. Guilty. 

“Wait, Dean?” 

“What?”

“Where’s dad?”

 

-|-

 

Castiel was terrifying. He threw the demon around like it was nothing. The glimpse John had caught of him outside the bunker hadn’t prepared him for this. The unassuming man in the too big coat had become a force of nature. 

In seconds the demon was destroyed. It revealed its secrets and then Castiel wiped it from the face of the Earth in a flash of light. 

In the bar they’d talked about angels. Liza had talked about them too. Told him that they were warriors. He was a fool not to have listened. 

But then the righteous fury was gone. The angel’s expression stayed serious but John’s urge to flee was gone. 

The angel appeared almost gentle, careful with Liza and Claire. 

John thought that was it, the angel would stay or go, but that was tonight over either way. The angel looked over at them with an expression John couldn't place. It was serious but caring. Powerful but kind. It shouldn't exist.

Then both his sons vanished.

This… this was the creature his sons gave a freaking nickname to?

"What... what the...?"

“That’s Castiel. Man of few words.” Jody tries to look sympathetic but she fails, her amusement showing through. 

“I need to find them. Where the hell did he take them?” Panic. He's never seen anything like this. It's like Azazel, something walking the earth that shouldn't be. And worse, with an expression of kindness, like it could feel. He gets it now. Angel's are not warriors like he's been told - they are weapons. There was something terrible at seeing a sword look kind. 

“Could literally be anywhere in the world.”

“If he hurts them-” I am powerless to do anything. I can't even attempt to protect my boys against that.

“He won’t,” Claire says, coming to stand beside Jody. 

“Your best bet is to drive back to the bunker and wait for them to come back.” 

“Fuck.” John turns to leave but Claire’s hand on his arm stops him.

“Tell Cas thank you, for everything, when you see him and,” Claire hesitates, “Tell him to drop by some time? Yeah?”

John just nods dumbly and heads off towards the Impala. After what he’s seen there’s no way he wants to go anywhere near the angel. Something that powerful shouldn’t exist. The way it didn’t even have to fight the demon… It’s wrong. 

He knows he lives in a world full of angels who do nothing, who don’t care for humanity, before this had made him angry, but now he understands why they do it. Humans are so powerless, so inconsequential compared to it. 

His boys think that the angel is their brother, their family, and maybe it does have some attachment to humanity, enough to heal Claire’s friend but after what John’s seen he knows that it can’t really care about them. A blade cares as little about the hand that wields it as the flesh it cuts. 

They are so small in comparison.

One day the angel is going to break them without even noticing. 

One day the angel will hurt them.

It is inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George kept his promise to Dean for all of two seconds but oh well. Also Dean had the keys to the Impala on him so everyone enjoy the mental image of John having to hotwire Baby.


	13. How Much He Cares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: double check the tags

Dean’s tinkering with a car while Sam walks around doing something that could be described as pacing. John’s on his way back according to Jody.

“Do you want to talk about Cas?”

“Nope.” 

“Dude, I don’t think it’s healthy-”

“Drop it, Sammy.”

“Okay… So when are you going to come out?” 

Dean stands up so fast he nearly hits his head on the hood.

“No.” 

“Dean, you can’t carry on like this. You and Cas have fallen out, you’re barely speaking to dad, you’ll hardly speak to me even!”

“Maybe that has something to do with you cornering me to talk about my feelings every time we get two spare seconds!”

“I’m worried about you!”

“Don’t be!” 

Dean walks out.

Sam watches him go.

 

-|- 

 

“Where the hell did you guys go?!” John shouts. 

He’s been back about five minutes. 

“Cas had a lead. He took us to it.” Dean has a beer bottle in hand and he’s not even bothering to look at John. John looks absolutely furious.

“We know who brought you back to life,” Sam says. That gets John’s attention.

“Who?” 

“A friend, who’s missing,” Dean answers. John glares at his eldest son.

“Dean, a word.” Dean puts his beer down and follows his little brother to the corridor. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Sorry, Sammy. I’m sure dad’s going to take the existence of a half-angel, half-human month-old kid who happens to be Lucifer’s son really well.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to be the smart one.” 

John joins them in the corridor. 

“Look I get that you can’t tell me everything but I need to know about this.” 

“He does.” Sam looks like he regrets this fact. 

“No arguments here. Just making sure you knew what you were getting into.” 

“Dad, you might wanna sit down for this,” Sam says while gesturing back into the kitchen. Amazingly John listens.

“His name is Jack. He’s a Nephilim, the child of an angel and a human. He’s very powerful, very young and currently missing.”

“A Nephilim? Jesus, Sam, what’ve gotten yourselves mixed up in now?” 

“Dad this is what we do, okay?” 

They keep telling him that, like it’ll get any less crazy the more they say it. 

“Not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Demons are one thing, angels another, but Lucifer and freaky ass angel children? Can’t you stay out of it?” 

John wishes that it wasn’t their responsibility. That they aren’t the ones who have to deal with this. They shouldn’t have to. ‘Dean and I, we’re special. In the ‘God has plans for us’ sort of way. He won’t fucking leave us alone.’ Sam had said that. John had tried not to think about it. It was easy. He’d been too busy worrying about them and thinking about them dying to contemplate an admission that big. But now he does. And he thinks it might be the worst part.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Dean answers without hesitation. 

“You’re risking your lives!” There is something horrible that they are still doing this, still putting their lives on the line, even after they’ve given them again and again. Will they ever get peace?

“You’ve never cared before!” Dean yells and for a moment John doesn’t know what to say because that is such a Sammy sounding argument.

“I always care.”

“Really? Because you didn’t care when we were children so I don’t see why you would now.” And okay, that’s fair. He put their lives in danger. But never like this. Never gods and angels and the Devil. No just demons, a voice in a part of his head he doesn’t go into supplies.

“I cared, Dean. I love you boys.” John’s nearly begging. “Haven’t you given enough?” 

Dean looks like a teenager, huffing and turning to Sam for back up. Expect it was always the other way around. 

“So what? We’re just supposed to give up? It’s the right thing to do, that’s what we always do.”

“Hitting on young girls, Dean, that’s ‘the right thing to do’?” It’s a low blow. But it’s been bugging John. It’s either this or bring up what Sam had said about them sometimes doing bad things. The stories about the King of Hell and the demons.

“What?” Dean furrows his brow.

“I saw you with Liza and Claire. It’s not right.”

“What…?” Sam can see the moment Dean realises what John means. The jokey flirting. Then Dean doesn’t look confused anymore, he looks angry. “No, just… no.”

“Dad,” Sam tries to intervene, “Liza and Claire are together. Dean was just messing around.” 

Dean whips round to look at him.

“Outing her? Not okay, Sam.”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to-”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” John says cutting Sam off. 

“I can’t believe you’d even think that I’d… wait. What?”

“I’m sorry I thought the worst of you.” John can hardly meet Dean’s eyes. He’d thought his son was some creep. 

“It’s okay.” 

“In my defence four days ago you were running after anything her age in a skirt. This is still new.” Sam watches Dean swallow. “But that was a long time ago for you. Give your old man some time, son. Still getting used to a few things.” 

Everyone relaxes 

“Actually dad about… about Claire, or Claire and Liza, or it’s really about me… I… em.” Sam watches Dean struggle and wonders if this it. 

“Relax I heard what you said to Claire.” 

“You did?” Dean pales. 

“That you’re practically her uncle? I did. I’m proud of you son, that girl needs a father figure.”

“I… eh, thank you, sir.” 

“She’s pretty messed up. With her father gone, and I know you say Castiel is your family and I’m okay with that but he’s obviously not a substitute, he didn’t even speak to her. Well I’m glad she has you to set her on the right path.” 

Dean is silent. Sam is incredulous.

“What do you mean ‘the right path’?” John misses the change of atmosphere in the room at Sam’s words.

“I know it can’t be easy. She seems like a real fire cracker but you’ve gotta make sure she knows what the world is like. That being that way ain’t easy, and with no real father figure around it was bound to happen. But she’s still young. You can turn her around.”

Sam tries so hard not to look at Dean; he’s scared that he’ll give Dean away if he does, but when Dean speaks he has to see.

“Do you mean because she’s bi?” Something in Dean expression reminds Sam of when he was a demon. There’s something venomous there, words laced with poison even as they sound carefree. 

“Bi?”

“Bisexual, it means she likes guys and girls.” Sam will do anything to deflect John’s attention from Dean.

“Huh. That’s just messed up. Picking to be with someone like that when you have the choice. It’s not on.” John looks like he’s expecting his sons to just agree with him.

“Oh really,” Dean smirks. Sam’s only thought is of stopping Dean because he knows that this is not really how he wants to do this. So he takes all his anger at John and lets it out.

“Jesus Christ dad! No one acts like that anymore! You’re fucking disgusting.” John starts in surprise.

“Talk to me like that boy and we’ll see what happens!” 

“I’ll talk to you however the fuck I want! You’re fucking SICK!”

“I’m not the sick one!” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I know things are different now and it’s all legal but I’m a man of my time. As long as they don’t bother me with it I don’t care. But if it’s someone in your own family… you gotta see it set right. It's not like I called her queer or a dyke or anything. I get that she's close to you.”

“That’s not an okay thing to think! None of that! Not anymore.”

“Fine then, I’ve been thinking about this and seeing as there’s angels running all over the place, you read the bible recently? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure they’re not so big on that in there.”

“I cannot believe you. God doesn’t care! Trust me, He really doesn’t!”

“How exactly do you know that?” 

Sam hesitates.

“Exactly and-”

“No you don’t get to do that. You got sent to Hell for saving Dean’s life, Dean for saving mine, me for stopping Lucifer, all good things. People end up in Hell for good reasons, just as often as bad. You don’t get to start talking like that.”

“Yeah, because monsters know all about what’s right and what’s wrong, don’t you Sammy?” 

Sam’s stomach clenches. 

“Stop, just stop. Dad, please stop.”

John has the good sense to look guilty. It stops Dean killing him.

“You’re right, I didn’t mean that. But if you cared Sam you’d look out for that girl too.”

“I do care. Claire and Liza are happy together and they saved our lives tonight. They don’t deserve you talking like this about them.” Sam’s anger has gone somewhere he can’t reach. He just sounds broken. He keeps fighting John but his father’s words keep playing in his head. ‘Right, wrong, right, wrong, monster, Sammy, monster, monster, monster’

“Look, I didn’t say they weren’t damn good hunters. But it’s Dean’s job to see that girl set right. Isn’t it Dean?” Sam and John both look around but Dean is gone. 

“Fuck,” Sam whispers. He’s hurting and upset and heartbroken but he bets it’s not even half of what Dean feels. 

He has to find his brother.

 

-|-

 

“Dad’s in the kitchen. I told him to stay there.” Dean just grunts in response. Sam notices his hands are balled into fists on his thighs.

“I can’t do it. I can’t throw him out.” Sam takes sinks onto Dean’s desk chair. “I told him if he did anything like that he’d have to leave but I can’t make him go.” 

The brothers look at each other. Sam isn’t in his usual spot with his legs stretched out onto the bed; he isn’t even rolling back and forth, unable to keep still. Stationary he seems smaller somehow.

Dean is on the edge of his bed. He wants to put his head in his hands but he’s determined not to let Sammy see how upset he is. 

“You know the ridiculous thing? I don’t even want him to go.” Sam shakes his head as if he’s trying to toss out the thought. 

“He called you a monster. The way he talked about Claire? The way he talked about me.” 

“He didn’t know that he was talking about you.”

“Doesn’t make it any better. He’s made it clear what he thinks about us.” The monster and the freak. Maybe he should go tell John about his brief stint as demon and then about Cas, and all the other men throughout out the years. See which gives him the bigger shock.

“I know. But even after… after everything… he said, about you, about me... I still want him here. He’s this horrible person and I still want him here.”

“Mum 2.0.” Dean’s aiming for humour. He misses. 

“C’mon Dean, neither of us wanted mum to leave.” It’s true, there are few things Dean wouldn’t have given to make Mary stay. But he’s not going to say that so he shrugs. 

“We never talk about her,” Sam says, shuffling in his seat. At least this conversation is making him uncomfortable too. 

“Sure we did. We had that fun family therapy session.” 

“No, we talked about how much we miss her. We didn’t talk about how… unhappy she was here with us.” 

And that’s it isn’t it? The painful truth. Out there in the open for all to see. 

“Mum came back from the dead. No one comes back peachy.”

“It’s not that and you know it. Mum missed our whole lives Dean. She came back when we didn’t need a mother anymore and she didn’t know how to be one and we still expected her to be perfect.”

“I didn’t expect her to be perfect.” 

“You did, we both did. Because that’s what dad had been telling us our whole lives.”

“So what, you’re saying that its dad fault?” Sam wonders how far that instinct to defend their father goes.

“No, it’s no one’s fault. We just... never talk about how miserable she was.”

“She wasn’t!”

“She was Dean and you know it! Do you think we were the people she wanted us to grow up to be? You know she never wanted to be a hunter but she still went back to doing that because it was the only thing she had left!”

There is a very long moment when neither of them looks at one another. Sam has crossed a line. He knows he has. They don’t talk about stuff like this. 

“You know, after mum… after mum told me she knew… about Cas and I… I thought: this is it. This is as good as your life can possibly get. Mum’s back, Sam’s safe and Cas is with you. I didn’t want anything else. I could live with her abandoning us; I could live with seeing her every now and again like Bobby and Jody. It wasn’t great. Mum had her issues, you still didn’t have that normal life – don’t give me that look, I know you still want it – and God knows what was going to happen to Cas and I in the long run but it wasn’t bad either. It was the furthest thing from bad that my life's ever been.

“But dad… I cannot see a way dad being back doesn’t hurt us. I just can’t, Sammy. So if you can’t tell him to leave I will. Even if you still want him here because he is going to hurt you and I won’t forgive him for that.”

Sam doesn’t mention that John’s already hurt Dean, that they’re having this conversation because John hurt Dean. 

“You’re allowed to put yourself first. I can look after myself.”

“It’s my job.” 

Sam wonders that if things were different how long it would take before Dean would stand up for himself. If he ever would. Part of him hopes that Dean’s using him as an excuse to get rid of dad. Sam knows he isn’t, but he hopes. 

“You need a holiday.”

“Nah. I love my job.” 

Dean grins at him and Sam can’t help but grin back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing John is so complicated. I want to punch him at the same time as shoving a thousand parenting books into his lap and making him read all of them. He's an asshole but he loves his sons. He's homophobic but he doesn't think its that bad. He makes the wrong choices for the right reasons and the right choices for the wrong reasons. I'm blown away by the writers of the show for creating a character who actually appears in very few episodes (comparatively anyways) so complicated and well developed. But if anything that makes writing him even harder because I don't have that much room to play around. So kudos to them but it makes me wanna tear my hair out.
> 
> Also I'm going to write a few little timestamps involving Mary so keep an eye out for them.
> 
> Finally, I'm going a bit more off canon in giving Claire a girlfriend but I wanted something to hit closer to home before Dean comes out. Technically its still canon because she could be bi? But I know I’m kind playing around a little here. (And Claire totally deserves a kickass girlfriend who knows what she’s been through)
> 
> Phew, this was a long note. 
> 
> P.S. Sorry about the angst


	14. Save Them

John hasn’t really been given a lot of time to think. The first night yes, but last night he’d conked out and today… today has been busy. 

Now that he has time he doesn’t know what to think about. If he was a more organised man he’d make a list. He’s not an organised man so his thoughts all jumble together. 

He knows that since he found Sam and Dean pretty much all he’s done with them has been to fight. About the angel, about their attitudes, about what he’s missed, about gay fucking rights of all things. 

In the car on the way to the hunt he’d actually been getting along with Sam for what feels like the first time in forever. Definitely the first time in ten years – no, twenty. 

Then there’s that. The missing time. He can’t get used to thinking of himself as gone, not there for his boys. Sam had spoken about it, needing to accept that they did the best they could. But it’s hard. There’s a whole decade that doesn’t fit. 

When he’d left he hadn’t trusted Sam and that’s hard not to switch off. He’s trying though. He knows he’ll get there. 

Before he’d worried about his boys taking on Azazel and now it sounds like Sam and Dean don’t blink at taking demons like his out. There’s a feeling of inadequacy there too, it took him twenty years to even get close and compared to what Sam and Dean have achieved it looks pathetic. 

Even looking around this, at the weird industrial kitchen in an abandoned bunker, feels utterly surreal. A reminder of the craziness. He doesn’t know the story behind this place but he wants to. 

Then there’s the stuff, the stuff they hint at or let slip. The stuff he’s heard or picked up. The dying. God. All the Heaven and Hell stuff. The way people talk about them. The angel. It all sits in his stomach and rots. 

And Dean hates him. When did that happen?

 

-|-

 

Telling his father to get out of his life isn’t something Dean thought he’d ever have to do. It was probably a recurring fantasy of Sammy’s, he thinks ruefully. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” 

“Hello. Nice to meet you.” Dean knows the voices but it can’t-

Dean sprints the last few metres and comes to a stop in the doorway. 

Jack is standing in the middle of the room with a kitchen knife sticking out of his chest. John’s look of triumph turns to horror as Jack pulls it out casually. 

“Hey kid. Long-time no see.” 

“Dean!” Jack walks forward and pulls Dean into a hug. “It is so good to see you again.” 

“You know this kid?!” John has this look on his face that in his current state of mind Dean finds very amusing. John looks as if someone just materialised in front of him and then was completely unbothered by being stabbed. It’s great.

“This is Jack. He brought you back to life. If Sam finds out you tried to kill him you’re dead.” Dean gives his father the minimum amount of attention, filling him in without looking. “You have no idea how hard we’ve been looking for you.”

“I do. I had to avoid you all, it was difficult. I needed to prove myself to you before I came back.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I did. I was unable to find a way to track down Mary but I thought that your father’s emotional connection to her might help me open the gateway, and he’s a great hunter which could come in useful. I thought having him back might be nice, I know being without Castiel was upsetting for me-”

“Jack. You’re blabbing.” 

“Right.” He stops and takes a deep breath, which is decidedly Sam-like, and continues, “I thought your father could help us get your mother back.” 

“Mary? Mary’s alive?” John sounds so hopeful. “She came back too?” He almost pleads.

“Dad... it’s not…” Dean runs a hand down his face. He’s so angry at his father. But a thought runs through his head, a horrible snide thought: What if it was Cas? 

Dean’s still angry, but a bit of compassion seeps in.

“Jack go get Sam, it’s time to tell dad the full story.”

 

-|-

 

They seem to be giving Mr Winchester a highly abridged version of events, Jack thinks to himself. 

He decides not to question it and instead thinks of other more important matters. 

Should he start calling Mr Winchester grandfather? Grandpa? Gramps? Should he ask first? Jack’s not entirely certain what the protocol is. Castiel is his father, Sam raised him and Dean is either his uncle or stepfather. It’s confusing. Of course most family dynamics are complicate. The closest descriptor he can think of is adopted, yet he chose his family, not the other way around. Very confusing. Nevertheless Mr Winchester certainly feels like the most likely candidate to fulfil the role of a grandfather. 

Although Mr Winchester appears not to like him very much right now. He is very similar to Dean in that respect. Jack has faith he’ll come around. 

Dean did. 

 

-|-

 

This is not the conversation Sam expected to be having. He’d already called Jody and she’d agreed to look after John indefinitely. He was expecting to say goodbye, not forever hopefully, but for a while. Now he’s having to dreg up the events of the past year and it’s not a fun experience. He and Dean are giving a very sanitary summary. Ketch is ignored, Jack’s parentage is kept to a ‘very powerful archangel’ and as always any hints about the true nature of Dean and Cas’ relationship are concealed. Luckily Jack stays quiet. 

Unfortunately he’s staring at John intently, completely oblivious to his discomfort. 

 

-|-

When Cas is called down to the bunker he doesn’t expect to see Jack. For a second surprise makes him freeze until- relief and happiness and gratitude. He finds himself thanking his father for the first time in far too many years. 

Normally Cas finds himself in a state of confusion about whether his emotions are strong because they are still new or because they are simply strong. As he holds his son in his arms for once there is no mistaking which it is. Is this what John Winchester felt when he found his sons again? 

The moment is perfect. So is the moment after it when Jack begins to babble excitedly about how he has been learning to control his powers and his search for Mary. 

Then Cas hears Dean chuckle. And he is being pulled into Dean’s arms. For the briefest moment – the most perfect moment – he thinks they will kiss. They don’t. And he is a little sad, but Dean is hugging him and this is more affection than Cas expected Dean to show in front of John Winchester for a very long time. He cannot find it in himself to be angry at being cast aside. Usually Dean pushing him away makes him furious, all that angel passion seeping out. This is different though, Cas has some understanding although he knows it’s not enough. 

He will be patient and kind. He will not pressure Dean into ‘coming out’ because that is a bad thing to do. Claire explained it to him in prayer earlier and a phone conversation five minutes ago. She too had been nervous about telling him several months ago, quoting some inaccurate passages from a religious text, but he assured her that God was indifferent. And if Sam’s (Dean had refused) research into Chuck’s life was at all accurate He also shared her proclivities. Cas had listened in when Sam told Dean this but the knowledge had been met only with a grunt. It was not God Dean was worried about. 

Armed with Claire’s advice Castiel had been willing to keep his distance from Dean but maintain emotional support for the duration of his ‘being in the closet.’ This hug though? He hadn’t been expecting Dean to instigate contact, especially considering that they were – or had been – in the middle of an argument (even if he can’t at this precise perfect moment remember what it was about). In summary he was totally unprepared for Dean to hug him and Cas can’t help himself from clinging to him like the touch starved angel he is. Dean is similarly affected and Cas doesn’t know what that means.

When Dean finally lets go he doesn’t release Cas fully, instead holding onto the angel’s upper arms and saying, “Missed you, buddy.” 

Cas knows he is forgiven. He goes to reply but is cut off by Sam’s cough. 

Sam pulls him away from Dean and into a hug. It is not like Cas and Sam don’t hug but this one is devoid of the back pats Sam and initially Dean taught him were so important. It also lasts a moment too long. But not half the length of the hugs he has just shared with Dean and Jack.

When he pulls back Sam’s eyes are disturbingly frantic. Cas wonders if he and Dean have inadvertently engaged in some kind of couple thing without realising. The worry builds for a few seconds until he looks at Dean and…

Dean is beaming. Grinning with an arm slung around Jack’s shoulders. 

“Team Free Will 2.0. Back in Black.” 

Cas doesn’t notice that Dean can’t look at his father. 

John does. 

 

-|-

 

John’s tired, he really is. He wants nothing more than to lay down in his bed and sleep. Instead of doing that he paces, deliberately keeping himself alert.

There was something off about that angel. Something profoundly disturbing. That wasn’t exactly anything new. But seeing it interact with his boys? The way it and Dean looked at one another was uncomfortable, it was like they had a telepathic like or something. Did they? Was that an angel thing? 

He got why they considered it family though. Once it’d arrived they seemed to finish each other’s thoughts. They’d all but ignored him. The three of them talking together with the kid tagging along. 

And the kid. Jack. The one who’d brought him back to life was beyond creepy. He had the intense staring thing going on. Was that an angel thing? He acted like a five year old but spoke formally. They’d explained that he was actually only a few months old which covered some of his behaviour but still. It was just weird. Not as weird as some of the stuff he’s had to deal with over the past few days but weird enough to set him even more on edge.

Throughout his thought process there are flashes of his wife, his Mary, the woman he still loves, will always love, no matter if it’s 20 or 30 years after her death, falling into another world. What was worse? That she was trapped in a barren wasteland or that she was dead? He can’t let himself think about that. 

She’d gone through all this, but so much worse. Coming back after missing all of their lives? He can’t imagine it. He can’t imagine losing all that time with them. It must have destroyed her. 

Jack had something to do with it. Jack’s birth. Mary had given her life to save the world. But the fact she’d needed to was Jack’s fault somehow, now the kid was trying to make up for it or something. 

He’s missing something though. Something obvious. 

He stills. 

How could he have been so blind?

It’s been there. Right in front of him. The entire time. 

‘I’ll try but they might be busy.’

‘Busy? Busy how?’

‘Lucifer had a kid apparently. No one’s been heralding the end of the world yet but give it time I suppose.’ 

Jody had said that they were busy trying to find Lucifer’s kid. Sam and Dean had said Jack was missing. He’d been missing for months. They’d said his father was a powerful archangel. Mary had been lost fighting Lucifer because of something to do with the kid’s birth. 

It fits. It all fits. In a truly horrifying way. 

THEY’RE PROTECTING HIM!? John’s mind screams. MARY’S DEAD BECAUSE OF LUCIFER AND THAT KID. 

After all the years spent hunting the Yellow-Eyed-Demon for the same crime they don’t just let that monster live: they raise him. 

Sam and Dean had said that Castiel had told them Jack had brought him back to life but Castiel could easily be lying. Protecting the devil spawn. It made sense. No wonder the angel set him on edge. 

How long had it being going on? Castiel has been with them for years. He’d helped them defeat Lucifer and countless others – but he’s also let Lucifer use his body to escape from the cage. Sam had explained that Lucifer had tricked him. That they’d saved Castiel and convinced Lucifer to help them defeat some kind of supercharged monster. 

But how long had Castiel spent trapped with the Devil? How long would it take Satan to tempt an angel who’d already fallen from Heaven? 

John can admire the plan. It's elegant. Castiel is their family. They said that often enough. If he said the kid was good they’d believe him. And where better for a hunted Nephilim to grow up than with the Winchesters, who could protect him from every kind of evil – or good - out there? 

He’d seen how they all looked at the boy. Sam had raised him they’d said. Castiel was his adoptive father. Even Dean had brightened when he saw him. He's willing to bet that their attachment to him would be enough to drag Sam into that dark place he’d been heading when he had died. And from the sounds of it Dean had actually been worse than Sam not too long ago. How much temptation would it take to get him back there? How much manipulation had they already gone through? Was going missing just a rouse to get them panicked? Reaffirm their devotion once he returned? 

It's full proof. Except he's back. He was back and they’d done nothing but fight with him. Was that part of the plan? Get them to turn against family? Surely they’d be better without any kind of connections? Or is his return a miracle like Mary’s? 

It has to be something else. He has to work it out. He has to save his boys before… before they go dark side. Before they become monsters once again.

He will save them. He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed an update so this one's extra long! 
> 
> Thank you for your comments on the last chapter. It was difficult to write but seeing people appreciate made it really rewarding.


	15. Love Of Family

It was kind of ridiculous; Cas had only been gone for slightly over 48 hours. Hardly any time and all, and they’d seen each other since then. But it was like this every time, every time Cas came home or forgave him after a fight or most likely both, it felt like it had been months. 

Dean never got over how it was possible to love him so much. He’d never thought he’d get to feel anything like this. In his sappier moments he wondered if it was some kind of angel amplification process but he knew that he had felt like this before, in brief flashes. Every time he saw Sam again after they’d been separated or died, when Mary had come back to life. He felt this love sometimes even in pain, when he was watching Sam hurting or dying. But when Cas is around the flashes turn into fire. 

It’s ridiculous. It will always be crazy and mad. Feeling this for a man – not even that, a freaking wavelength – who he has tried to kill and who has tried to kill him. They’ve fought and betrayed one another. 

He can live with it. Live with the knowledge of everything that’s passed between them if it means he gets this. Cas curling into his side. Not sleeping, but in some kind of angel meditative rest. 

It’s crazy and weird but it’s them and it's so, so powerful.

 

-|- 

 

For Castiel there is something about being at Dean’s side that screams safety. It shouldn’t be that way, not with everything they’ve done to one another but it is. 

Cas doesn’t know it yet but it’s the feeling of coming home. It’ll be awhile before he learns, but that’s okay.

 

-|-

 

As usual Sam is up first. He passes Dean and Cas’ room and listens out but it’s all quiet. That’s probably a good sign.

The bunker feels empty. John is still asleep and so is Jack. 

It’s not like the bunker is usually a riot of noise but over the past two days Sam’s got used to the constant movement. This just feels like something’s off. 

He goes for a run and by the time he comes back Dean in making waffles. Cas is sitting at the table catching up on Orange is the New Black. It all feels so eerily normal. Any moment now Jack’s going to come in with a book in his hand or a question about some pop culture thing that Dean will attempt to answer and Sam will translate into something that actually makes sense. It reminds him of the early days of saving the world, when Cas couldn’t speak Dean yet. 

It’s not normal though. Because Cas and Dean aren’t fighting but they aren’t being cosy either. Sam’s not used to seeing them in a room and not in one another’s space. It’s kind of their thing. 

And Jack’s not here because he’s sleeping, which he hardly ever does. They’d worked out that he needs about one good night’s sleep a week or a long nap every couple of days. When he’d been gone he’d hardly slept. Last night Sam had eventually insisted he got some shut eye and the kid had all but passed out. Once Jack knew it was okay to sleep it was like his usual bubbles fizzed out of him. 

It’s all because of John. John who’s still asleep too. Sam had heard him walking about in his room until the early hours so he’d gonna be out for a while. Sam and Dean haven’t spoken about if he’s staying or not. Jack and Cas being back changes things somehow. It’s not just Sam and Dean against their father anymore, it’s Team Free Will. John seems more manageable. Less of a challenge. 

Or it could be with the rest of his family back John’s importance in his life pales. When it’s just him and his brother John seems like a lot. But with the rest of his family around him he’s reminded of how little he needs his father anymore. 

It’s harsh. John’s been dead for a long time. That’s not his fault. He did it to save Dean. But now they’re trying to slot John into their lives when there’s not a place for him anymore, at least not where there used to be. Just like they tried to do with Mary. 

Look how well that turned out, Sam thinks cynically, Winchesters never learn. 

 

-|- 

 

When someone comes into his room Jack wakes up with a jump. It’s just Sam, carrying waffles on a tray.

“Morning kid.” Jack sits up and takes the waffles from Sam. “Thought you might be hungry.” 

Jack is. He’s starving. Or his version of it. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to eat, or not eat as much as he does, but he enjoys food. He gets excited about meal times and misses eating when he goes without sustenance for a while. It’s been a about a week since he last ate and while he’s fairly certain his body is still functioning fine without it he craves food. 

He stuffs as much as his can into his mouth and Sam laughs at him.

“You remind me of Dean. Or actually…” Sam is grinning at some memory, “Have you ever seen Cas eat a hamburger? You look like that.” Jack hasn’t seen his father have any form of human nutrition besides coffee but he does know what Dean looks like when he eats so Jack makes an attempt to slow down. The idea of looking like that is not appealing. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“Yeah I’m good. There’s more in the kitchen if you want any though. Cas and Dean are up.” 

“And Mr Winchester?” Sam looks away for a second. 

“Dad’s still asleep. Also it’s probably best if you avoid him as much as possible until he gets used to you.” Sam doesn’t tell Jack that John wouldn’t exactly respond well to finding out about Jack’s parentage. He has no idea how they’re going to explain that one. It’s gonna be a cross that bridge, jump that hurdle when they get to it type of deal. Sam’s not looking forward to it. 

“Of course. I imagine it will take him some time to get used to the idea of a Nephilim.” Jack knows that a lot of Dean’s initial hatred of came from his role in getting Castiel killed. Fortunately when he revived Castiel all was forgiven. 

John is going to be a lot more difficult. He has deep rooted prejudices and his distrust of Jack clearly wasn’t abated by the fact he brought him back to life. Jack saw his soul and rebuilt his body, although he tried not to snoop – it was rude – two things were seared onto the surface. He couldn’t help but see them: hatred of the supernatural and love for his family. 

Jack just needs to get John to consider him family – Jack is now 95% certain he’s technically John’s grandson - and hopefully one will counteract the other. 

Hopefully its love of family that wins out.

 

-|-

 

He needs to find his son. 

There’s only one place the boy will be. With the Winchesters. No doubt they’re keeping the child nice and safe. 

Therein lays the problem. It’s a bit embarrassing that he’s never been able to truly defeat them before and now… it’s not going to be easy. 

Except this time it’s personal. Is that too cliché? 

First, prioritising. Someone is sitting on his throne. 

Tut. 

Tut.

Tut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and then, BAM, plot
> 
> To counteract my annoyance at John I decided to take a moment, slow things down and inject some (angsty (Is that even possible?)) fluff into the story. And then ruin it with the return of another terrible father. Shout out to the people who saw this coming. 
> 
> I've been genuinely surprised at the reaction to this fic and I want to thank everyone who's left comments. Sorry at the amount of frustration and anger I've caused!
> 
> Also this story is now fully AU. I'll be disregarding all current and upcoming episodes. I was waiting to see if I could tie them in but, as much as I've loved the recent episodes, it's not going to be possible.


	16. Wrong

Being in enemy territory is something that John is used to, both from his military days and from hunting. This is different though, it’s more like being undercover. 

He’s constantly on edge. There’s never a moment when he isn’t doing five things at once. 

It’s horrible because he doesn’t know what to do, at all. He doesn’t even know where to start. He has no idea how to undo the conditioning Sam and Dean have gone through to stop them being so loyal to ‘Jack’. He doesn’t understand how angels work and if it’s even possible to get Castiel back on side. And he as far as he can work out most Nephilim have few weaknesses and the spawn just happens to be a super powerful one. 

Even weirder is the fact that Sam and Dean are acting fine. Older and quieter but still like themselves. The angel appears to be acting normally too, or its version of it. It’s overly formal and somehow manages to do a pretty good impersonation of being human that’s obviously just an impersonation with occasional moments where it seems to get the hang of things only for the moment to pass. John can only assume that acting human is something it does for Sam and Dean’s benefit. He can’t exactly blame Castiel for trying to blend in but there is something just completely off about the whole situation. 

Then there’s the kid. 

The kid is the freakiest thing he’s ever come across. It takes a lot to unnerve John, or it used to, but just being in the same room as ‘Jack’ makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

The kid’s got the whole acting human thing down about as well as the angel. John has to wonder if he’s copying Castiel’s mannerisms or equating being human with acting like you have some kind of autism is a general angel thing. 

On top of that there is the creepy smile, the way he’s always watching and the feeling that even when he’d being silent he’s full of energy. 

And John has no idea how to fight him. 

Nothing in any of the books in the bunker has anything vaguely helpful. Nephilim are an urban myth of the supernatural world. 

Even if John could get some kind of handle on what the kids powers are… but he can’t because the lore is inconsistent and they’ve dropped enough hints that ‘Jack’ is in a league of his own anyways. 

In the two days the kid’s been back John hasn’t seen him use his powers at all. Apart from the initial appearing out of nowhere thing. The angel is similarly thrifty when it comes to using its powers. 

In short John is fucked. And he knows it. 

 

-|-

 

Sam cannot shake the feeling that something is very, very wrong. In the past two days they’ve settled into a routine of seemingly peaceful domesticity. 

He’s spent his time tutoring Jack, sparring, searching for cases and hanging out with the distant but more intense than ever joint entity that is Cas and Dean (it’s like they’re back to their pining days, which were the worst), all of it with his father in the background. It should feel normal but it doesn’t. 

He’s pretty sure that it’s John that’s really setting him on edge. Having him back was always going to upset their dynamic. If anything he probably should be grateful that John seems to have chilled the fuck out but there’s something suspicious about it. John is catching up on everything that he’s missed, apparently. Sam’s not sure he buys it but he’s thankful for anything that keeps John at a distance. 

 

-|-

 

Mr Winchester is still… cold towards Jack. Which Jack understands, he really does. It took Dean a lot longer than two days to like him and the vast majority of creation seems to hate him on sight. Yet… having Mr Winchester in their home yet remaining withdrawn feels horrible. 

Jack tries to connect with him but nothing seems to work. Sam told him to stay away yes, but he really wants Mr Winchester to like him. So he spends a lot of his time following the man around or watching him research only to be shot suspicious glances by Mr Winchester. 

In the evening of the second day Jack realises that he might be acting as Dean would say: “freaky” or as Castiel would say: “disconcerting.” Sam would probably be more diplomatic. 

Clearly following Mr Winchester around isn’t working. 

Time to try something else.

“Hello, Mr Winchester! I can help you with your research if you’d like?”

John flinches as Jack places himself into the chair beside him and twists his book around so he can read it. 

“Oh you’re looking up Nephilim! You can just ask me if you want to know something.” 

Jack stares at Mr Winchester and waits for him to ask a question. He doesn’t, he just looks alarmed. Yeah, Jack knows he’s definitely behaving oddly. How to fix it? 

Jack sits back a little and looks at his hands.

“Or Sam has all the useful lore on Nephilim in his room if you wanna look through that.” 

“Eh… yeah... I’ll just go do that.” 

Mr Winchester hurries away from him and it’s a little hurtful. Jack had hoped his behaviour wasn’t too off putting but clearly he’d been mistaken. 

 

-|-

 

John has no idea what the kid’s doing with the whole meek act but it’s creeping him the fuck out. Even weirder was the way he’d helped John to find the books he’d been searching for. 

They’re some of the oldest looking books in the place and none of them are in English. That’s probably why the kid felt okay leading him to them. 

What he probably hadn’t been counting on John finding were Sam’s meticulous notes. John leaves the books in place and takes the loose paper to his room. 

Sam has clearly perfected his record keeping over the years so it doesn’t take John long to find what he’s looking for. Obviously at one point in the recent past his boys had been trying to find a way to kill Nephilim because there are pages dedicated to that particular topic. 

Most of it is crossed off or scribbled out.

Angel fire/holy fire?  
Incantation?  
Rowena +/ or witches?  
Entrapment? (Crowley’s help?) Heaven/Hell which one?  
CHUCK – how contact? Want Amara back? Would he even care?

 

He makes out a:

Cas? Smite him? 

jotted into the margin in Dean’s handwriting but John knows that isn’t an option now. 

At the bottom of the final page Sam’s written:

Jack + Angel Blade

It’s so simple looking at it like that. 

 

-|-

 

Jack’s almost falling asleep when he hears someone enter the room. 

When he was away he’d only slept for brief moments. He’d tried mediation but he didn’t really know how to do it so it was ineffective for gaining respite. His lack of rest means that he is still exhausted despite sleeping for 8 and 12 hours the past two days respectively. 

Yet his time away did teach him to be constantly alert, which he is grateful for when he senses the person’s malicious intent. 

He stays very still and regulates his breathing. He is fairly certain he can overcome his attacker if he has the element of surprise. 

However his body betrays him, as soon as he is aware of the presence of an angel blade, it flinches. He has not had pleasant experiences with the weapon but he cannot help but feel annoyed at himself. His innate reactions have ignored all the training he has received and given him away.

He can tell from his attacker’s intake of breath that they know he is awake. 

Before anyone has time to move he flies to Cas and Dean’s room.

He arrives panting, which is strange as he doesn’t remember holding his breath. 

“JACK WHAT THE HELL?!” 

“What happened?!” 

Cas and Dean are wrapped in an intimate embrace but it is not the worst that Jack has seen. They are both still wearing shirts and boxers. 

“Attacker, my room,” There is a second when Jack heaves air into his body and it’s like it’s too thick to swallow but he manages, he has to tell them, “John.” 

Dean looks stricken and is already nearly out the door with a gun in hand by the time Castiel is cradling Jack. 

“Go to Sam. Now.” Castiel doesn’t let go even as Jack disappears from his arms. 

His angel blade is in his hand as he follows Dean down the corridor towards Jack’s room. 

 

-|-

“Jack, Jack, Calm down. Just breathe. You’ll be fine but you’re having a panic attack. You have to tell me what happened,” Sam says soothingly. “Focus on telling me what happened.”

He knows that he isn’t doing this right, that he isn’t giving Jack any time to calm down but the feeling of dread that’s been lurking for the past two days has risen up. Something is very, very wrong. 

Then he hears the gunshot.   
 


	17. Knowing

When Jack had said John’s name Dean had assumed that his father was in danger. It’s a fairly reasonable jump for his brain to make. 

But it had left him totally unprepared for the shock of John emerging from Jack’s room with the expression on his pale face that Dean understood in an instant. 

He keeps his gun raised.

“What have you done?” He asks quietly, even though he knows the answer.

John Winchester stumbles over his words, “I… He’s Satan’s! You- I had to – he disappeared! I’m keeping you- all I wanted-”

“Cut the crap, dad. You saw a monster and even though we told you he wasn’t you wanted him gone.”

“I DID! That kid is an ABOMINATION and-”

 

-|-

 

There’s something about that word that Cas has really come to hate. He’s been called it often enough, he’s used it himself often enough but now he sees in it people’s inability to categorise what they don’t understand. 

He sees John Winchester working out Jack’s parentage and, despite all evidence that nurture won out over nature, deciding to hurt, to kill the child. And Castiel is furious.

He remembers what Dean had told him John Winchester had said about Claire, and by extension, Dean himself. About bisexuals. The man’s ignorance makes him angry. 

He recognises the way that John looks at everything he doesn’t understand and it fills him with wrath. 

 

-|-

 

John doesn’t even see the angel attack him. It moves too fast. John’s years of training are what save him. His body’s response is instinctual; it’s already in the fight before John has formed a conscious thought. 

But he cannot hold off a warrior of Heaven for more than a few seconds. 

“YOU TRIED TO KILL MY SON” The angel says, and it puts the force of millennia of existence into those words. 

John’s blade is ripped from his grasp when it clashes with the angels. His wrist flexes back but it’s not enough to stop the blade from spinning away and clanging when it hits the floor. John results to dodging and knows he has only moments to live. 

“CAS, STOP.” 

The angel grabs him by the neck and crushes him against a wall. It brings the blade up slowly and there is nothing John can do to stop it. 

A blast erupts right by his ear and dust falls into his eyes. 

Fuzzily, he sees Dean stride up to him over Castiel’s shoulder. He pulls the stunned angel away and John has just enough time to realise he’s about to be punched in the face before the hit lands and he blacks out. 

Sam comes running into the hallway moments later with a gun in each hand. 

“Missed all the action, Sammy,” Dean says as he lets their father fall to the floor. 

Castiel is standing a little behind Dean with a hand covering his ear and holding onto his angel blade. They’re both wearing boxers, shirts and grim expressions. Dust from the bullet hole by John's head is still settling. 

“What the hell happened?”

“Your father tried to kill my son,” Castiel answers, looking down at John with an expression he usually reserves for demons, Crowley and Lucifer. 

Sam’s shoulders tense and he clenches his jaw. 

“Was he possessed?” 

Castiel goes into the nearest room and emerges with holy water in a class vial. He splashes some at John’s hunched over form and for a brief moment Sam hopes – no, it’s just a small poof of dust.

“I’ll go to Jack,” Sam says because he needs out of here. He needs to be away from all of this. From Cas holding onto the vial and the angel blade so hard his knuckles are white. From Dean with his expressionless face and the safety still off on his gun. 

Then again, Sam’s fingers are still on the triggers.

 

-|-

 

“Did I do a bad thing bringing him back? I swear I didn’t mean to.” Sam pulls Jack into a hug and tries desperately to think of anything comforting to say. 

“I always do a bad thing, even when I try to do good,” Jack mumbles into Sam’s shirt. 

There is something so young about Jack right now. He acts so similarly to Cas it’s easy to forget that their unusual way of looking at the world comes from two completely different places. Castiel is someone who’s spent a lifetime watching monkeys at a zoo, but it is poor preparation for living amongst them. Even things he thinks he understands don’t work in quite the way he expects, hence his near constant bafflement. 

Jack’s confusion and wonder at the world is childlike because he is a child. It is all new to him. He is innocent and naïve and the world shouldn’t keep trying to hurt him like this.

“No, Jack you didn’t. You did good. It’s just… I don’t think he’s a very good person.” Sam sighs and pats down Jack’s hair. “It’s not your fault okay? You’re good.” 

Castiel arrives in the doorway and watches them for a second or two. Sam knows that Cas is about to tell him something but it’s like he wants to give them peace for as long as possible. 

“Dean wishes to speak to you. I thought I’d stay with Jack.” 

Sam nods and reluctantly lets Jack go. 

The kid curls up into a ball on top of the covers. Castiel sits on the bed by his head and takes up where Sam left off, running his fingers through the kid’s hair. 

Now it’s Sam’s turn to stand in the doorway and watch for a little while. 

He never thought he’d be co-parenting with his brother and his boyfriend, an angel of the lord, but it’s unexpectedness doesn’t stop him from feeling warm at the sight of Jack being cared for. 

And it doesn’t stop him from wanting to kill his father for even trying to hurt his kid. 

 

-|-

 

Somehow when Sam gets to the war room, where John sits on a chair with an ice pack to his head, the fight isn’t even abut Jack anymore. And its strictly verbal. Dean’s gun and the angel blade rest on the other end of the table. 

But the argument is still vicious and it seems that John has returned to his favourite target for hatred: Castiel.

“You’d let him do that to your own father?”

“I didn’t, I stopped him!” And that is a surprise, because in Dean’s position Sam’s not quite sure he would have done the same.

“He nearly killed me!” 

“You had it coming!” 

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!” John throws the ice pack onto the table and stands up.

“You tried to kill Jack! What did you expect was going to happen?!” 

“I thought you’d be free from his control!”

“There is no fucking control!” 

“Way I see it that angel-”

“Oh, here we go-”

“One day that angel is going to hurt you!”

“HE ALREADY HAS!” Dean’s voice cuts. It wounds.

There is a silence in which a feather could fall and be heard. 

“Is that what you want to hear, dad? Do you want to hear about all the times Cas has betrayed us and hurt us? Because he has.” 

“Well- I… was,” John stutters. There is an admission in Dean’s words of something greater than John expected. Raw emotion in Dean’s voice that he’s never heard before. He wanted Dean to agree with him, but hearing it is horrific.

“You don’t get to speak. Not right now, ‘cause if you want to hear it I will tell you. Your warning is too fucking late. Years too late. Cas has turned on us, he’s let us down when we needed him the most. 

“He has hurt me more than I thought possible, more than you or mum or Sam ever could. Do you know the number of time’s he’s broken my heart? Do you know how many times I’ve broken his?” 

There it is. John knows what he’s been missing.

“I love him and I have hurt him so, so much. There are days when I can’t bear it; I can’t even look at him sometimes. When I remember that he fell for me, he disobeyed Heaven for me and I know how underserving I am of an angel’s love. 

“You know what? That’s not even the worst thing. The worst thing is that sometimes we die. And I don’t know if I’m ever going to get him back and he-”

“Dean, that’s enough. Dean!” 

Sam pulls Dean into what might be described as a hug. But he’s also holding him back.

John watches. He sees the pain on Dean’s face. He sees the worried glance Sam gives him. He watches as his sons cling to one another.

John turns and leaves.

“You BASTARD! You fucking BASTARD!” Dean thrashes in Sam’s arms. No, he shakes. 

“Dean, calm down!” 

Sam wrestles his brother back, away from the direction John went in and down onto a chair. 

Dean shakes uncontrollably. It reminds Sam of when he sat with John in the Impala. Not tears, but something worse. 

“Oh God, oh God, he knows, he knows.” 

Sam stays silent, there’s nothing he can say.

 

-|-

 

“Does Dean wish to see me?” 

Sam spins around in the library chair to face the voice. 

“Jesus! Cas! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

“Sam, please, it’s important.” 

“He hasn’t… prayed for you?” 

“No.” None of Cas’ features move but Sam can tell he’s uncomfortable. Years of practice in reading angel emotion coming in handy.

“He might just be sleeping. I left after he’d… he’d cried himself to sleep.” Sam looks away from Castiel for a moment and says quietly, “I’ve never seen him like that.”

Sam didn’t know it but Dean has cried like that before. For three days one time before he sold his soul. After the apocalypse. The night Sam left for Stanford. Holding Cas’ tattered trench coat to his chest. By the time they lost Cas and Mary Dean was so used to losing people he was thankfully numb for the first few days, angry more than sad, focused on finding Jack. He’d thought that he’d never feel that way again. He was wrong.

“I understand that your father…”

“Is a homophobic bastard.” There’s bitterness in Sam’s tone. His hatred of John being fully justified is not something anyone really wanted.

Cas takes a seat as well as the beer Sam offers him.

“I have little comprehension of human notions of sexuality and gender, other than what Dean has explained to me. I’m not entirely certain I’m equipped to deal with this.” 

“Just be there for him. Even when he pushes you away. That’s all the advice I can give you.”

“I haven’t been very good at doing that.” 

Sam smiles a little. 

“He said he loved you.”

“He did?” Sam had secretly hoped that Dean was a lot more open around Castiel. From the surprise in Cas’ voice it didn’t sound like it. Apparently Dean was an emotionally constipated idiot around everyone, even the love of his life. 

“I mean he was yelling at dad and pretty fucking pissed but it slipped out.” 

“Oh… I didn’t… I-” 

“You know that he loves you? Right?” 

“Of course. I just…”

“Don’t hear it very often?”

Cas smiles a very old smile. The kind you smile when you hear the truth and it makes you sad. 

“He needs you, Cas. To him love is about needing someone. It’s all he knows.” It’s not exactly healthy, or happy, but it’s something. 

“Your father? He needs him.”

“Not anymore. He’ll see that soon.”

“I’ll go now.” Go to Dean. 

Behind the doorway John Winchester stands with his fist at his mouth and tears in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d really like to know what people think about this chapter. I know it’s been a long time coming and it’ll hopefully pack an emotional punch.


	18. Leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: double check the tags

“I’ve lost him, Cas. I’ve lost him again.”

“Shhh. I’ve got you.”

“I lose everyone, I always lose everyone. Dad, mum-” 

“Stop it. You haven’t lost me. I’ll always come back. When you need me.” 

“You can’t promise that.” 

“I can. I will. Shhh, Dean, you don’t need him anymore.”

“But I just got him back.” 

Cas has no idea what to say.

-|-

It seems so obvious now. Blatantly obvious. Dean’s dedication to Castiel, the way he is considered part of their family. Everything points to how much of a fucking idiot John was to miss it. 

But just because it’s obvious doesn’t mean that he can get his head around it. It’s Dean. Dean… he never would have thought that it was possible. 

Queer, faggot. Those words aren’t Dean. But…

Dean is fucking a man, an angel. 

No. Don't think like that. 

It makes him uncomfortable, and gives him imagery he just doesn’t want to deal with. There’s a swirling in his stomach that asks him if the angel thing or the guy thing he’s having trouble with, and as much as he doesn’t want to think about it he knows the answer is both. And that somehow makes it all worse. 

Maybe it’s the lying that got to him. Dean’s been lying his whole life. All the women. He never exactly approved, settling down with a nice girl had always been his goal and when he found Mary… his life was what he always wanted. But he’d played around first so he couldn’t judge Dean too harshly. Then there was the part he didn’t let himself think about: settling down wasn’t actually an achievable goal for Dean. It was better to accept that and sleep with a different woman every night than go pinning for normalcy like Sam. 

But all of that, all of it was a lie. Was it because of him? John knew if teenage Dean had come to him talking about… men he wouldn’t exactly have approved but it wasn’t like he approved of all the women either. Was he being honest with himself? How would he have reacted? He wouldn’t have chucked Dean out, he’s fairly certain – fairly – but it wouldn’t have been… good. 

Maybe Dean just didn’t know back then. He’d always thought that was bullshit - how can someone not know that about themselves? - but he’s a lot more willing to believe it now. 

And then there’s Castiel himself. The angel is… terrifying. Still. He’d thrown John around like a twig. John had been right about him, he was inhuman and incredibly dangerous but John has also been so, so wrong. 

(And there’s the fact that he is unashamedly a man: deep voice, tall, suited and older than Dean, or at least his vessel is. All of it makes John uneasy. Is that what Dean’s… into?)

In his room John puts his head on the desk. His ears are still ringing from the gunshot and his eyes still sting from tears. 

Was this his fault? Was it because of the way he raised them? Not having a mother around, hell, hardly any female figures in their lives? Why choose an angel? Of all things? Why? 

He’s not quite ready to admit his answer yet – that he doesn’t have any answers. 

-|-

“How is Jack?” 

“Good, sleeping,” Sam replies, “And Dean?” 

“Sleeping.” 

Castiel takes the coffee Sam offers him but neither of them says anything else. The silence isn't uncomfortable or comfortable, it's just a silence where no one has anything to say.

“Can I get some food?” A quiet voice asks. It's John. He’s not even standing in the doorway; he’s so far back he’s still in the corridor. 

Cas puts the cup down abruptly. Sam thinks he’s going to beat John up, or maybe even kill him – Sam isn’t inclined to stop him – but the angel just pushes past. 

John turns his attention to Sam eventually, his eyes having followed Castiel until he was out of sight.

“Help yourself,” Sam shrugs. It sounds friendly, but they both know it’s not. 

John nods. Sam leaves.

John has no idea what to do.

-|-

Jack’s recovered from attempted murder remarkably well. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to kill him but Sam knows someone getting to you in your own room can leave you extra shaken. 

“Hey, kid, volume.” 

“Sorry,” Jack mumbles while turning it down. It’s Star Trek and he’s entranced. Sam’s gonna have to track down a way to watch all the series and movies not on Netflix. He doesn't feel like explaining the ethics of illegally downloading stuff to him, that conversation hadn't exactly went well with Cas. In fact that was why they now paid for Netflix instead of scrounging off some randomer's account. Paid with a stolen credit card, but still.

After watching Jack stare entranced at the screen for a few more moments Sam looks back at his laptop. Normally he’d do research in the library or maybe the kitchen but he’s a tad unwilling to leave Jack alone for any length of time at the moment. 

He’s scanning through the usual but doesn’t find anything. The world is mercifully free of world ending disasters they need to take care of at the moment but he wouldn’t mind if there were any good old fashioned hunts to distract him right now. 

He’s flicking through an online literary journal, a slightly trashy one but sue him, he likes to unwind now again, when he comes across a headline that makes him groan. 

“What is it?” Jack says, looking away from the TV a little reluctantly. 

“We’ve got a case.” Sam sighs a, small ghost hunt would be too much to ask for. “A big one.” 

-|-

“Missing Hit Cult Author Carver Edlund’s Exes Die In Mysterious Circumstances,” Dean reads aloud. “Oh fuck.” 

“Yeah.” Sam is repressing the urge to go hide in his room and never leave. “So get this, seven of Chuck’s exes have died in the past month. All of them in ways that appear in the Supernatural book series. One after the other, three days apart. Plus two of them live in Europe, the first to die and the sixth. And to top it all off the FBI are investigating.” 

That’s what convinced him this was a job for them. Because honestly there could be some crazy stalker out there doing this but as far as he could tell the FBI were all over it and if they couldn’t track someone entering and leaving Europe twice in a month he had to admit something supernatural might be going on. He had to admit it grudgingly and with a note of despair.

“Becky?”

“As far as I’m aware she’s okay but we should probably warn her.” 

Sam empathetically does not want to deal with a case involving anything of Chuck’s. However, dealing with Becky again - in any capacity - is worse. 

The combination has him thinking that he might actually be in Hell again.

It doesn’t help that Dean’s honest to God – Chuck – smirking. Grinning from ear to ear. “Aw, that’ll be nice. Have a catch up.” 

Sam has his ultimate annoyed bitch face on. Dean’s loving it and for the moment, he forgets. 

-|-

The moment doesn't last long.

“Where exactly are we going?” John’s got a travel bag slung over his shoulder and he’s heading to the garage with Sam. 

“California,” his son replies. 

John doesn’t want to ask: why me? Why aren’t you kicking me out? Because he’s fairly sure that would result in him actually being thrown out but it didn’t stop his curiosity spiking when Sam had barged into his room and told him to pack a bag for a case. 

“What’s the case?” 

“It’s urgent and an emergency.” By this point he knows Sam’s being deliberately bitchy. They’ve got a long ass journey ahead of them he’s not looking forward to it. 

“Where’s Dean?” 

Sam tenses getting into the Impala. 

“Doing research. He’ll join us if he finds anything.” 

“How?”

“What’s with all the questions? Do you want to do you job or not? If so, get in.”

John climbs into the passenger seat. He says nothing as they drive away. In fact he hardly says anything until they get to California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on in there will be both plot and angst! Whoop!
> 
> I'm sorry for the impromptu hiatus. These past few weeks have been brilliant but incredibly busy. Fantastic but insane. I quickly realised that I would have no time to write this and decided I'd give myself a break and write when I could instead of pushing out rushed chapters. Turned out that I didn't even have time for that and decided to just wait and write when my life got back to normal.
> 
> I'm really sorry for leaving you all on the cliffhanger - that was a dick move - but from now on updates will be back to the usual 3/4 days. Again, sorry!


	19. On The Case

Sam’s been in a lot of awkward car journeys in his life. There were many in his childhood and teen years. Sitting in the back leaking fury in the middle seat or moping curled in towards the window. There’s been plenty since then too. Stuck in the car next to Dean and wanting to have the barrier of the back seat between them again.

It’s the first time it’s him and dad – John – in the front seat. He doesn’t want to climb into the back; he just wants John not to be there. It’s not possible though. Thankfully John seems to have decided to see how long he can go without speaking. Sam isn’t complaining. 

He's not even angry. He is sometimes, it comes and goes. But mostly he's just tired. He wants John gone, away from Dean, away from Jack, away from Cas, even away from him. Instead they’re essentially trapped in the Impala together. Sam can’t help but think of the last time they were sitting like this, for the first time he’d felt like he and John were actually getting somewhere. Now it’s worse than it’s ever been. 

What’s John thinking? He wonders occasionally. He doesn’t really want to know but curiosity and all that. 

John seems aware that Sam is on Dean’s side and doesn’t trying to discuss it with him. Sam wonders if that’s because Sam’s always on Dean’s side or if it’s something else.

The silence in the car gives Sam time to think. Too much time. 

 

-|-

 

The silence in the car gives John time to think. Not enough time.

 

-|-

 

“Dean, of course I was aware of my father’s sexual proclivities.” 

“Please Cas, if you love me, never say that again.”

“You know I love you.”

“That was a joke.” 

“Oh.”

Dean smiles a little smile he doesn't let Cas see and gets back to work.

They are getting absolutely nowhere. It’s coming up on a day and they’ve done nothing except stalk Chuck’s social media. It isn’t even new territory. Sam had trawled through it all since Chuck’s G-O-D status had been revealed. 

Still, Dean paused when he found the first Pride post on Chuck’s Instagram. He’d known about Chuck before – Sam had mentioned it after his online-Life-Of-God-binge was over - but it only hit him when he was staring at the rainbow flag and the inspirational quote in Comic Sans in front of him. Of course Chuck posted inspirational quote pictures. Of fucking course. It was worse than the cat pics blog, but only slightly because the cat picks might’ve been occasionally funny but they were still cat pictures. And there were thousands.

Weirder than the cat pictures was the fact that Chuck posted LGBT+ stuff all the freaking time. Dean couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

Why? 

Cas doesnt even seem to notice. He works away at his list of Chuck’s potential partners and doesn’t hesitate when he comes to a guy’s name. It’s automatic.

How can he do that? 

Dean’s the opposite, whenever he comes across a photo of Chuck and a guy he’ll skip over it, then think, oh wait maybe, and flick back. 

Why is he like this? Why can’t he see what he is in other people?

“Dean, are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. Just a little… you know.” 

Cas hesitates. Normally he’d nod and continue, trusting Dean’s judgement even if he doesn’t ‘know’, but he’d beginning to think he should start trusting himself too. He’s still not good at feelings, but he knows this one and it feels like something is wrong.

“No. I don’t ‘know’. Please explain?”

Dean groans and pushes back from the table a little.

“Just, you know, if he’s so supportive why make the world the way it is?” Dean's really thinking: Why make dad be… Why make me be in a relationship with a man and not able to see it in others? 

“I don’t believe my father made the world the way it is. He created it yes, but ultimately it has been shaped by humanity.”

“Yeah but he created humanity? So why make them – I mean, people have died ‘cause they’re like us - well okay not you - but, like or me, or whatever. People still die cause of it. People hate you and me for no reason Cas other than thinking they see a man and man together. I just-” Dean breaks off and shrugs, like it’s inconsequential.

If Cas was human he might have held Dean’s hand, or even cusped his face. But he’s an angel so he places a steadying hand on Dean’s shoulder and his gaze reaches a new level of intensity. 

“Dean, your father’s reaction has very little to do with my father. It has to do with centuries of indoctrination, his upbringing and internal prejudices he is yet to overcome. And most importantly it has nothing to do with you.” 

If Cas was human he might have reassured Dean with whispers of love and ignored the moral questions he was asking. But he’s an angel so his reassurance contains nothing but facts and logic. He’s left unsure that he’s said the right thing. 

He remains uncertain until Dean does the human thing and leans forward to gently touch Cas’ jaw and tip the angel’s head up into a kiss.

 

-|-

 

Jack’s locked up in his room reading. Sam had handed him a box before he left filled with books, told him where to find the rest online, and left him to it, with the disclaimer that it wasn’t all accurate. 

He hadn’t known what to expect when he picked up the first book. It had a cheap cover with a nice but low quality illustration on the front. He leafed through it until he found the

Property of Charlie 

Scrawled on the title page. 

There’s writing all over the books in fact, and highlighting, and sticky notes, and occasionally whole A4 pages slip out. Jack reads it all. Because it’s all about his family, before they even knew his father. He knows about them, the books, of course. Sam had filled him in and explained the case but books about Sam, Dean and Castiel before he knew them? He hadn’t really thought much about their lives before he was born. More of the same, probably, saving the world.

They weren’t, at least not to begin with. Jess. Poor Sam. And Dean, young and wild and womanising is just weird. 

He can tell that the books aren’t totally accurate; they leave out a lot of what Sam’s told him about John. ‘Kill him or save him.’ The demon blood. There’s probably more he doesn’t know about.

And then they meet Castiel and he did not expect their first meeting to go like that. He’d always thought rescuing someone from Hell was a grand act of love; Castiel had done it for Dean, Dean for Sam, he’d done it for – nope. That actually makes sense now, why it’s tunred out so bad. Castiel saves Dean but they hated one another at first. Dean rescued Sam but he returned without a soul. The gestures came from love yes, but perhaps the price of saving someone from Hell was for it to go wrong and you had to save them all over again, this from the consequences. A morbid but somehow satisfying thought. The books reveal a lot of what he has been missing but they are undoubtedly weird and invasive. Jack is hooked but he can’t ignore the strangeness. Castiel and Dean don’t even like one another for a whole chunk. It makes him sad. 

Then they do start liking one another and Jack has to start skipping parts because he’s not reading that. Ever. 

He cries when his family loses Charlie, he’d like to have known her. He cries a lot in fact. Once he’d gotten to the point where Sam was going to sacrifice himself to close the gates he’d decided to just keep crying because it took too much effort to stop only to start again. 

He’s deep into the online books now. Being a Nephilim includes super speed reading. Who knew? 

The books are hosted on a website dedicated to fanfiction but the comment section tells him that most people believe they’re written by the author Carver Edlund. Chuck. His grandfather. God. 

He lost one grandfather yesterday – nope he’s not thinking about that, not thinking about all the people who want him dead is how he gets through each day – but he’s getting to know another through writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww look at that fluff.


	20. Oh God

“So Becky’s not your ex?” Sam is being deliberately shady on the subject of Becky. He’s hardly answered any questions apart from ones about the case but sometimes not even then. It’s frustrating. They’re on a hunt but John only knows half of what’s going on. It feels like they’re going after Becky for no reason to John, which he’d get if she was someone Sam cared about and wanted to keep safe but instead he seems to hate her.

“No, I mean, yes. Look that’s not relevant. What is relevant is that she’s in danger and she was the last person to talk to Chuck that we know of. Got it?” The information Sam’s giving John isn’t even accurate but it’s short and concise and meant ensure he asks as few questions as possible. 

“No, Sam. I’ve not. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on. I know that you’re mad at me but if you want me to do my job you’ve gotta give me more than this to go on, son.”

“Don’t call me that.” Sam’s hatred and angry silences aren’t exactly new but his total rejection is. Even at their worst he could always count on Sam in a hunt, now he’s not so sure. It seems like Sam doesn’t want him there. No that’s a lie. It’s obvious Sam wants nothing to do with him. He very deliberately got separate rooms at this shitty motel they’re at and is avoiding looking at him as much as possible. Maybe it’s justifiable but its also reckless as hell and a dumbass decision to make on a hunt. 

“Fine. But I’m a hunter. Let me do this. I can help if I know what I’m supposed to be doing.” 

“I don’t even know where to start,” Sam sighs.

“How about the beginning?” Oh the irony, Sam thinks.

“Yeah, trust me; we do not have time for that,” He says with a shake of his head. 

John leans back in his seat and resists the urge to yell at his son for the attitude. It’s wouldn’t work and he’s not quite sure he has that right anymore.

“Is this… is this hunt real? It’s not just a way to get me away from… from them.” He can’t look at Sam as he says it. He’s practically hanging his head. 

Sam lets out a huff of laughter. It’s humourless. 

“I wish.” Sam stands up and heads towards the door. “Let me make one thing very clear, John, if this case didn’t exist, you’d be gone and out of our lives forever.” 

It sounds like a threat. John’s head’s spinning as Sam leaves. His son had sounded murderous. 

He realises something very important all of a sudden: he’s angered the most dangerous men on the planet. 

If he wasn’t their father… It’s a terrifying thought.

 

-|-

 

Breakfast in the bunker actually feels homely for a change. With John there they’d all been weirdly formal. Now Dean’s in his robe and Jack’s in PJ’s. Cas’ up and dressed but he doesn’t actually sleep much so it makes sense. Dean hadn’t woken up next to him that morning. Instead the angel had shook him awake and brought him coffee. Standard research mode procedure. 

Normally after Dean dozed off Cas would read or watch TV while Dean slept next to him, then he’d meditate to recharge for a little while before Dean’s usual wake up time. It had worked better in the days where Dean got 4 hours on a good night but as he got older and their lives became marginally safer Dean had been known to sleep up to 8 hours. Cas was happy that Dean, and Sam as well, felt safe enough to actually rest but sometimes he found himself lonely. He liked when they were on a hunt and the brothers ran on a few hours each. 

That said last night when Dean had fallen asleep after ‘a round between the sheets’ – Cas is picking up Dean’s vernacular - Cas had let him be and continued research by himself. Dean needed a break to deal with everything going on in his life, Cas was infinitely sorry all he could offer was peace for a few hours to rest his mind, but it was the best he could do. 

“Did you find anything?” Dean asks while munching on some bacon.

“Nothing. There should have been another victim last night but nothing’s hit the news yet. And in the lore there’s no mention of any kind of supernatural creature that goes after someone’s previous lovers. My main guess would be a curse of some kind. And I’m not ruling out the possibility that it’s a fan who has become… unhinged.” 

“Great. God’s got a stalker.” Cas is beginning to wonder if Dean times speaking to the moments when he has his mouth most full.

“Does Chuck know?” Jack pipes up. He’s not looked up from his laptop, those damned books, but is obviously listening in.

“He’s God. He’s gotta know right, Cas?”

“Yes, one would assume that he does.”

“But what if he doesn’t? Hey look here.” Jack swirls the laptop to face them, highlighting a passage with the mouse. 

The passage reads: ‘To my surprise, it’s Sam and Dean. On the stage I continue to mumble through my talk as they make threatening gestures as me.’ 

“Okay, so what? When’s that even from?” 

“It was posted online in 2013 but takes place a year or two earlier I think.”

“I meant what is it?”

“The Real Ghostbusters.” 

“And that is…?” 

“It’s the 42nd book in the series.” 

“What happens in it?” Dean asks swallowing bacon and a welling feeling of frustration.

“Oh! You and Sam go to a supernatural convention!” It’s good thing Dean’s just swallowed because he nearly chokes. 

“Shit. I forgot about that.”

“Jack, what exactly is your point?” Cas asks in a desperate attempt for the conversation to regain some kind of purpose. 

“Well he says he’s surprised right? I know Sam said that they weren’t exactly accurate, and they aren’t, but he never outright lies. Not even to cover up the plot holes left by leaving out information. So he genuinely didn’t expect to see you there.” 

“Cas, is that even possible?” Dean’s eyes are flicking back and forth across the page on the screen, trying to remember anything extra from that day.

“I don’t know. To exist in human form or maintain his role as a prophet he certainly could have limited his powers to give the appearance of normality, or some approximation at least but… he’s not like that anymore. Even if he was caught unawares then it doesn’t mean that he will be now.”

“No, no, no that’s not what I meant. Look this proves that he can tune stuff out right? So what if that’s what he’s doing?” Jack is bouncing in his chair. 

“Are you saying someone’s trying to get God’s attention? ‘Cause I have news for them, he’s never listening.” Dean’s words have an edge of bitterness. 

“Jack could be right though. Someone could be trying to get to God through Chuck, as it were. Appeal to emotion.” 

“That’s smart,” Dean admits. Why hadn’t he thought of that when Cas was gone? Well, murder’s not good but something else maybe. “But wait hang on. Two problems: firstly, we still have no idea who it is; secondly, it’s not working.” 

“I’d say it’s working pretty well, Dean. They’ve killed seven people,” Cas says with a tone of long suffering patience. 

“No, it isn’t because they’ve killed seven people and he’s ignored it,” Dean retorts. Cas’ eyes go a little wide and he grabs the laptop and pulls it towards him.

Jack nods his agreement, “Because whoever they are they don’t know that he can tune out, they think he always has to be listening.”

“Kid, you’re a genius.” 

Jack beams at Dean’s compliment then visibly refocuses on the problem, “If you though God was ignoring you what would you do?” 

“Rebel.”

“Threaten him.” 

Jack blinks. Usually he has no idea of what is normal to realise when his life’s so far out of it but right now he can tell that the fact Cas and Dean’s answers come from experience is insane. 

“So you both got angry?” He manages to rationalise their reactions.

“Yeah… so what?” Dean’s moved to look over Cas’ shoulder at the screen, where the angel’s furiously typing away. 

“What if, whoever it is, they’re starting to get angry too?” 

They both look at Jack.

Dean says what they’re all thinking: “Shit. We’ve gotta find them fast.” 

 

-|-

 

“You’re right. If you’re gonna help you need to know what we’re up against.” 

It had taken even bit of willpower for Sam to leave his room that morning and head to John’s and even more he didn’t know he had to admit that John was right.

“This isn’t some random monster that goes after someone’s exes, actually it might be, but the guy whose exes this thing is going after is a… friend of ours.” 

“So you’re not interested in the case because of Becky?” John still can’t get a reading on who exactly this girl was to Sam.

“Oh God, no. Opposite in fact. It’s because of Chuck.”

“The friend?”

“Yeah.”

“I know that name, from somewhere else.” Chuck’s name was one of the few things Sam had mentioned but he refused to answer anything useful John wanted to know. “You’ve spoken about him before. Who exactly is he?”

“He was one of the options for whoever might have brought you back to life.” Chuck and someone else. Amara? He struggles to remember what they said. 

“So he’s a deity? Right? You said that he’s very powerful.” John managed to piece this together himself and he’s fairly certain he’s right but a conformation is necessary so he doesn’t make mistakes. 

“Incredibly.” Sam isn’t being difficult for once; he just has no idea how he’s supposed to do this.

“Okay so what do we know about this guy? How old is he? When did he come into existence or whatever? What religion?” This John can do. It’s an unusual case but he’s had harder. 

“You know, that’s a really good question actually. I don’t know what religion actually. Possibly… all of them?” Sam takes a deep breath before continuing, “And he didn’t so much come into existence as… well he kind of predates it.” Sam sits back and waits for him to get it. 

“Sam, nothing’s that old- oh.” John’s breath becomes very shaky. “You said you knew... You said that, He, you know, ‘has plans’ for you. That’s who we’re talking about right?” He had believed them, he’d had to. But there’s a difference between that acceptance and whatever the hell he’s feeling right now. “God?”

“He prefers Chuck.” Sam’s enjoying himself a little too much. “So the case, in detail, is that over the past month seven of God’s exes have turned up dead: Martina Conti in Italy, Joseph Marks in Indiana, Maria Saenz in Texas, Shaaba Chainani in New York, Bradley Zimmer in Texas, James Olusoga in England and Daniel Landry in New Orleans. 

“All died exactly three days apart in ways that… Chuck would be familiar with. Two of them were European. Bradley Zimmer was Canadian but he’d lived here for five years. All of them are people he’s dated in the past ten years but honestly, I have no idea how long he’s been hanging out on Earth, he could have had high school girlfriends for all we know. We have no way of getting in contact with him besides praying which is… ineffective at best and our only lead is Becky, who he dated for about two years. We also need to protect her because she might end up dead next. Or already because the next victim was due to appear last night. That’s about it.” 

John’s gone a little slack jawed. 

“I’m just gonna leave you to take all that in. Unless you have any questions?” 

“I… uh.” 

“Know what? Get breakfast then when we head out we can talk through it all.” 

“Okay,” John nods. Sam’s facial expression is unreadable. John had thought he’d been enjoying himself but somewhere along the line his guard went up.

“Wait.” John’s brain is kicking in. “Does God possess people?”

“Don’t think so. Pretty sure he made his own body to inhabit. Perk of the job.”

“So the whole time you’ve known him… he been this guy? Chuck?” Chuck. God’s called Chuck.

“Yeah…”

“And he’s had… boyfriends? I mean five out of the seven victims are male.” That’s really what his brain had caught on when Sam was speaking.

“They are.” Sam is standing very stiffly. He’s waiting for what comes next but nothing does. Eventually he decides to just go. 

He’s out of John’s room before he turns and holds the door open so he can still look in. 

“Dad, Chuck gave Castiel and Dean His blessing. God doesn’t care. All your issues with them are down to you. Think about that.” 

Then John is alone. And he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its my birthday folks! Hope you're all having a great day!


	21. Honey, I'm Home!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE!!!!!

There’s a lot to be said for monster hunting in California. On the whole the state is weirdly low on the supernatural occurrence register and there are a few dedicated hunters who keep it that way. It’s one of the things Sam loved most about when he was going to Stanford. And it means when something strange does go down its fairly easy to spot. 

Nothing strange appears to be going on near where Becky lives, and her mysterious death in unusual circumstances didn’t happen last night, which Sam has serious conflicting feelings about. He doesn’t want her dead but if she had… well he wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. This being John’s freak out. 

“So you’re telling me this girl dated God?” 

“Yes.” 

“For two years?”

“Yes.” 

“She actually dated God?!” 

“Yes.”

“And you?” 

“Dad!”

Okay the freak out isn’t Becky’s fault. Sam’s pretty sure it would have happened anyways. But it’s really tempting to blame her and he’s had a stressful couple of weeks so sue him. 

“I wouldn’t have expected God to share a girlfriend with you, that’s all.”

“We didn’t share! Separate times! And Becky and I didn’t even date.” John smirked at that. Fuck, John thought that Sam had once upon a time had a friends with benefits thing going on with God’s ex and Sam couldn’t correct him because that sounded better than: she date raped me into marrying her with magic. 

“I know it’s just unexpected.” 

“Do I even want to ask what that’s supposed to mean?” Sam’s expecting something about how Dean would be more likely to be the one to get into that type of arrangement, which is going to lead to John remembering Cas’ existence and the journey getting awkward again, but instead he just gets a mumbled reply.

“What?” Sam snaps. After their morning reveal of God’s identity they’d started talking again, purely as a support mechanism. Sam’s still furious but he’s not going to let John go through having everything he knows about the world flipped around for the fourth time in less than half as many weeks alone, even if John deserves it. 

“Just…” John turns his head away from the window and towards Sam. “Don’t hate me?” 

Sam just grunts in reply. Honestly he’s pretty sure that ship’s sailed but thankfully John doesn't really appear to expect an answer. 

“Two weeks ago… I was waiting for you to go evil on us. I was trying to find any way from stopping you from going dark, Sammy.” 

Sam chokes back a: ‘only Dean gets to call me that’ when he realises what John actually said. Not quite sure what to say he stares at the road. Unfortunately there’s traffic this close to the city and they’re basically sitting still. 

“And now you’re here and you’re amazing and I don’t need to worry about that anymore. But it’s hard to switch off you know?”

“How is any of that relevant?” Sam thinks he keeps his tone in check. Hopefully enough that John doesn’t notice. Wait, he doesn’t need to do that anymore. He can sound as pissed off as he wants.

“It’s not, not really. Just how my brain works. It’s a bit frazzled at the moment. A few days ago I was waiting to lose my son and now I’m with you trying track down your ex who used to date God. And Dean…”

“Dean’s the exact same. You know now. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really have much time to get my head around that before we left. He always been that way then?” John says gruffly. It’s like he’s saying the words against his will but at least he’s saying them.

Sam draws in a shaky breath. “Yeah. He didn’t exactly broadcast it back then but I’ve known since I was 14. It wasn’t until Cas that it, well, it became pretty obvious.” And he actually admitted it. 

“Huh.” Sam regrets saying that. It wasn’t obvious; John clearly had no freaking clue. John seems to be thinking about something else though, “He doesn’t really broadcast it now either, right? Or was that because I was there?” 

“I don’t really know. I didn’t mean that he does. He acts couple-y sometimes but I don’t really notice anymore. He’s Dean, you know what he’s like.”

“No chick flick moments.” John and Sam grin briefly at one another before Sam’s smile slips. 

“You’ve gotta be okay with this dad, or you’re gonna loose us.” Sam doesn’t hesitate to include himself in the equation, “Me, Dean and Cas, Jack-“

John cuts him off with a groan. “I’m barley getting my head around Dean. Let’s leave Jack for tomorrow alright?” 

There’s a small spike in anger. It dips down when John continues, “I’m trying, Sam. I swear to God I am.” 

Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. Maybe it’s impossible to fit a decade’s worth of social change into a week. Maybe it’s impossible for a Marine, a man’s man, a hunter to be accepting. Maybe it should take more for Sam to start to forgive John, even just a little, just the tiniest bit, like he can already feel himself starting to do. Maybe John doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Maybe Sam’s getting tired of being angry.

“Swear to Chuck.” John lets out a chuckle and suddenly neither of them can stop laughing. They’re sitting in the slow moving traffic laughing their heads off until they can’t breathe. When they finally finish the tension in the air has cleared a little.

“Speaking of things I can’t get my head around… ‘God’. ‘Chuck’.” John shakes his head, “What even are your lives?” He says it like a joke. He’s joking, messing around, but his eyes are sad. 

“I dunno,” Sam says, because he doesn’t. 

 

-|-

 

“Honey! I’m home!” The devil says just after he materialises in front of Castiel and Dean.

Dean looks up from his work almost comically slowly, but when he finally connects the voice with the image in front he’s all action man. Castiel is already halfway there.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Lucifer says raising a finger and stepping back. “I’m here to parley.” 

“You are not a pirate,” Castiel says with his serious voice. Little brother, always so literal.

“Okay, I surrender!” Lucifer is continuing to back up but it’s getting ridiculous, he’s almost at the stairwell. 

“Want do you want, Lucifer?” Dean’s got a gun aimed at his head and Lucifer doubt’s the hunter would miss at this distance in his sleep so he slowly raises his hands. 

“Just to talk, quick catch up.” Then because he can’t help himself he sneers, “Been a while since I got laid, thought you might wanna give me a spin minus dear Castiel’s meat suit.” 

Castiel growls at that and Lucifer’s up against the stairwell with an angel blade at his throat before he can blink. Dean’s finger twitches on the trigger.

“Or not! That’s cool! We can have a little chit-chat instead.” 

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Dean growls - so that’s clearly a couple activity for them. 

“Dean, he’s not fighting back. I don’t think he can,” the seraph says in that gravel toned voice of his. Damn it. Well, now he’s screwed.

“So I’m a little… tied up at the moment. Happens to the best of us!”

Dean face morphs into something Lucifer doesn’t recognise and he’s suddenly very glad he never ran into Dean as a demon. Not that he’d have even noticed at full mojo but in his current state he can admit the Knight of Hell must’ve be one scary motherfucker. Then Dean shoots him. 

“OW! That hurts!” Lucifer chances a look down and, oh, yeah that’s not good. “You blew off my damn knee cap!” 

“Hardly.” Very suddenly his leg just gives out and he’s falling to the floor while the pain intensifies. Then before he can even reach the ground he’s being tugged over to a wall by Castiel. The bastard drags him there then pins him against it.

“He should already be healing,” Castiel says, glancing down at his leg. His poor mutilated leg.

Lucifer inhales through his nose. As if he wasn’t already humiliated, what comes next is going to be worse. 

“Does this mean we can kill him?” Dean looks overeager, like a puppy. Lucifer is genuinely starting to worry Earth’s saviours are psychopaths. Sam’s always been a little kooky – the whole demon blood thing for a start, followed by insanity, can’t be fun so he gets it – but there’s something particularly worrying about Dean. Never quite shook that Hell’s torturer persona as much as he pretended, and each time Lucifer sees him it shows a little more. Or could be that he’d feeling a bit defenceless right now. 

Luckily Castiel shakes his head in disagreement. 

“We can’t kill him until we know what he’s up to.” 

“If the two of you are capable of not being boneheaded for all of two seconds I will happily explain what’s going on.” 

Castiel twists so he can look questioningly at Dean.

“Dungeon?” 

“Dungeon,” Dean agrees.

“Oh, you morons.” Lucifer doesn’t get to snarl the rest of his insults as he becomes very concerned with keeping his weight off his bad leg. After hours, positively decades, they finally make it to the dungeon. They being Castiel and Lucifer.

“Where’s Dean went? Scared of a little blood?” 

“You know that’s not true,” Castiel replies, and somehow it sounds like a threat. 

“So now I’m in your sex dungeon what’s gonna happen next? I’m not opposed to kinky time with you, little brother.”

Castiel lets out a rumble of disgust. 

Dean’s voice appears from the corridor, “What’s gonna happen is you’re gonna tell us what the fuck is going on and if you behave I’ll even restrain myself from testing out your newfound pain tolerance.” 

Lucifer isn’t scared. He’s the Devil. No human can scare him, not even one that’s defeated him in the past. He’s fucking Lucifer. He’s not afraid. But whatever that bastard Raphael did to him has him coming too close to fear for his comfort, so he’s gonna play nice.

“I took care of your downstairs problem, probably shouldn’t have killed Crowley, I’ll admit that but how was I supposed to know that bastard would take over?”

“So you killed Asmodeus? But he weakened you?” Castiel has his frowny face on.

“Not that’s down to the biggest dick in a certain parallel dimension we’re both familiar with.” 

“You took down Asmodeus, like this?” Dean gives his leg a kick for emphasis. Lucifer doesn’t cry out because he’s Lucifer but he breathes through his teeth for a few seconds before smiling. 

“I quickly discovered I needed a little help. And then lo and behold I ran into an old friend. Constructed a story where said friend would be more amenable to my goals. However after we took down Asmodeus I might have let something incriminating slip and ended up… having to make a swift exit from Hell. No biggie. I’ve been in tighter spots.” 

“So who’s King now?” Dean asks.

“Ah, more like: Who’s Queen?” Understanding eventually dawns on Castiel’s face but Dean’s is still a shadow of confusion. Seriously, how the Hell did these idiots defeat him? Clearly Sam’s the brains of the operation, good vessel choice on his part.

“Rowena. She’s alive?”

“Ding, ding, ding. And she is pisssssed at me.” 

“I suggest we hand him over to her,” Castiel grumbles in Dean’s direction and wow, the world is full of surprises because he’s 90% sure good, old, Cas just made a joke. Dean’s certainly smirking like it was one.

“And you came to us because…? What do you want?” 

That’s it isn’t it? The big question. When he first appeared back in the real world he was gonna smite the fuck out of the Winchestsers and anyone who ever spoke to them. But plans change. Devils lose their powers and have to run away from hell with their tail between their legs. Straight into the idiotic hands of their enemies. But what he wants hasn’t changed at all.

“I just want to see my son.”  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Scurries out from where I've been hiding* 
> 
> Sorry guys! No excuse, just good old fashioned writers block. Writing Lucifer actually got me out of it. He is SO MUCH FUN!


	22. Becky

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” Sam was having a quick nap in the passenger sea while John drove before Dean called.

“Hey, Sammy. We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“Lucifer’s here.” Aw fuck.

“WHAT?! Are you okay? Where’s Jack?!” 

“Cool it. He’s in the dungeon. We’re good. No injuries.” 

John looks concerned but Sam just shakes his head at him.

“What happened?” 

“He just showed up. Rowena’s alive. Queen of Hell. Lucifer’s pretty much powerless and tucked up in the dungeon answering every question we can think to ask him.” 

“About… you know?” Mum, what did Lucifer know about her? Was this actually it? Were they actually gonna be able to get her back?

“Yep. Cas is on parallel dimensions or alternate dimensions or something right now. It’s going over my head a bit to be honest. Hey, you ever watched Doctor Who?” 

“Yeah, some of it. Dean, are you alright. You sound really…” Happy? Excited? Gleeful? “weird.”

“Sammy, this means we might be able to get mom back. Lucifer escaped and Raphael sounds like one nasty son of a bitch but Lucifer’s pretty sure she’s still alive. He’s gonna help us.” 

“Why would he do that?”

“He wants to see Jack. It’s crazy. He’s not even putting up a fight. We said if he tells us everything and helps us we might consider letting him see the kid and he’s actually doing it.”

“What does Jack say about all this?” 

“He’s holed up in his room. Don’t worry I made sure he was okay while Cas took Lucifer to the dungeons. I’m keeping him updated.” 

“But he’s okay right?”

“Yeah, Sam. He’s okay.” 

“So what’s happening now?”

“Well, we’re interrogating Lucifer but you and dad should probably stay on the case. We’ll try and help out as much as we can with what’s going on here. And do you think Jack would be safe with you guys?”

Sam shoots a look at his father.

“Probably here. But tell him to get some shut eye before he comes so he can run 24/7 for the next few days.” 

“Good idea. Tell me when you get a motel and I’ll send him. Hey you seen Becky yet?”

“On our way.” 

“Ooh la la.”

“Shut up.” 

Dean laughs and hangs up. Sam groans. 

“What was all that about?” John asks. Sam holds himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Dean and Cas have a case.”

“What, more important than this one?!” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay I get they probably think it’s an emergency but surely someone else can handle it.”

“I don’t think so.” 

“But this is a case with God’s exes! What kind of case can be more important than that?!” 

Sam just raises his eyebrows. John pales. He even looks a little sick.

“What they hell are they dealing with?” 

“Nothing they can’t handle.” Sam’s very clearly shut John down.

 

-|-

 

“SAM!” Becky says as she flings herself around his neck. Her feet are dangling a good metre from the ground. “It’s so good to see you! Come inside! Who’s this guy? What’re you doing here? It’s been years!” 

Becky is not what John’s expecting. He never exactly got to know if Sam had a type like he had for Dean – although apparently he’d been really wrong about that – but he’s still pretty sure Becky isn’t it. She’s pretty and friendly but her excited shrieking is just… no. 

“Hey,” Sam draws out the word. He looks deeply uncomfortable, which is weird seeing as Becky is clearly not holding onto any bad feelings from what sounded like a messy break up. “Good to see you too. This is John. He’s helping me out on a case.” 

John holds out his hand expecting her to shake it but instead she grasps onto it and tugs him into a hug. 

“I’m Becky! It’s great to meet you and all but what’re you doing here?” A nervous look appears briefly and then it’s gone. 

“Actually it’s about Chuck. Can we sit down?” They go over to a small breakfast table covered in papers. It’s messy but not nearly as messy as the rest of the house. The sofa is being used as a shelf for folders. 

The way Becky sits alerts John to the fact something’s up. She’s turned just a little too much towards the door and she’s hardly sitting on her seat. That said she doesn’t look twitchy or uncomfortable, although she’s likely just hiding it. 

“Is he okay? Have you heard from him?” 

“Not recently. In fact we were wondering if you could fill us in on when you last heard from him?” 

This girl dated God. How could he keep forgetting that?

“Not for years. We got back in contact when he was traveling Europe. We ran into one another in Paris! Crazy, right? Oh, what a weekend! We knew it wouldn’t work but we stayed in touch after that.” She sighs dreamily, and then shakes herself back into focus. “He moved back here for maybe a year on and off - he did a lot of travelling. Then he dropped by one day and handed me a USB pen drive with the rest of his books on it. He’d been emailing me the books to post online for about a year. Something about his contract meaning he couldn’t do it himself.”

She shrugs, “Anyways, he’d decided he was going to go off the grid for a bit so I agreed to keep posting them while he was gone. He checked in pretty regularly for about a couple of years then, nothing. It was me who got him filed as a missing person – he doesn’t have any family – but the police thought he’d probably gotten himself killed or he’s living in a tree house somewhere. They’re useless.” She glares like the offending police are right in front of her.

“Amen to that,” John says and then, oh shit. Why would he say that? Sam looks slightly amused.

“So when exactly did you last speak to him?” 

“Nearly two years. 22 months.” Spoken like someone who’s had to argue with the police recently.

She visibly hesitates before continuing, “Actually I’ve being trying to track him down myself but I’m not having any luck.” 

She stops again and gives John a calculating look. He tries to seem sympathetic. 

“I’m really worried about him. We weren’t together anymore but he was one of my best friends. He was the first person who looked at me and didn’t see a weirdo, you know? I kinda went off the rails after we broke up but when we met again he suggested that I make a career out of running fan conventions and now I have this amazing life: I live in California, I go to the beach every day, I have a job that I love, a fantastic boyfriend and friends who actually get me… I wouldn’t have any of that if it wasn’t for him. I owe him so much and I feel like I’ve failed him.” 

Sam shifted forwards to put his hand on her shoulder. She immediately cuddles into him and begins to sob. John’s seen Sam look less afraid fighting demons. 

“I just…” sob “what if he’s DEAD?” sob “And I didn’t try to find him sooner” Sob “It’s all my fault!” sob

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m sure he’s not dead,” Sam says while gingerly patting her back. She jumps up and clings to his arms. Sam tries to move back but there’s really no room unless he wants to end up on the floor.

“HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?!” 

“Roughly at the same time as you, in person. He seemed… fine. Happy. We know he’s still alive. ” 

“OH, THANK GOD. I’ve been so worried. Once the books stopped coming I thought the worst and I just couldn’t… Those books were Chuck’s life and I just couldn’t imagine him letting them run out.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Every month or so a new book would appear on the USB, even after Chuck was gone. That’s why I wasn’t that worried at first but about six months ago they stopped. I’ve been searching for him ever since. I couldn’t tell the police because of all the legal ramifications of posting his work online – although I swear I was going to if I didn’t hear anything soon - and I thought that it maybe meant the world was ending. I mean the latest book has one hell of a cliffhanger.” 

Becky untangles herself from Sam and goes over to a desk that’s no longer functional, or even visible because of all the books stacked on top of it. From somewhere she pulls out the USB. 

John has just enough to mouth, “books?” at Sam, who shakes his head before she returns.

“Okay you gotta tell me what happens with the darkness because I’ve been waiting for the world to end for half a year because of it.” 

“Oh, uh. We defeated it. All’s good. The books are that far behind?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Just that was ages ago.” 

“Oh my God, seriously?! You’ve gotta catch me up!” Becky shrieks excitedly. She’s basically bouncing, tears forgotten. 

“Wait G-Chuck wrote about you?” John knows this is probably one of the questions he doesn’t want an answer to but his brain’s been running behind this entire conversation. 

“Oh sorry Sam. I didn’t realise he didn’t know. We try and keep the Supernatural books out of the hands of hunters. You know, give you guys some privacy from people who’d actually believe it. Garth’s been pretty great at convincing hunters who come across it to keep it to themselves and Jean was incredible at making you guys hard to find online. She deleted a whole bunch of government stuff too.” 

“Who’s Jean?” 

“Oh, Charlie. I knew her as Jean.” John notices the pain on Sam’s face, who was this girl? “She tracked me down after she found out I was the one posting them. I’m really sorry for your loss. She was amazing. I miss her loads. She used to come over and help me edit them actually. And the musical? It made no sense in book form. It had to go. Chuck was… not very good at the whole editing process. And sometimes he’d leave stuff in that was just a little too specific, you know? It was nice to talk to someone who actually knew what was going on. Garth’s been great and everything but he doesn’t read them.” Becky grimaces at the ground, “It wasn’t great finding out about her death like that so I can’t say I blame him.” 

Her sad look dissipates almost immediately and she’s smiling again. “Actually I should probably say that it’s getting harder and harder to keep it in the bag. Pretty much everyone calls them the Winchester Gospel now, and that’s just a PR nightmare!” 

John can't work out what the look on Sam's face is right now. After Becky had mentioned Jean a sad expression had replaced his startled one, but now he looks distinctly uncomfortable, in a different way to the underlying look of discomfort he's had the whole time they've been here. What exactly are these 'Winchester Gospels'. He hopes they aren't what they sound like. He's fairly certain finding out his sons are messiahs on top of everything else might just destroy the remnants of his rapidly disappearing sanity. He subtly glances around to see if there's any clues in Becky's living area but a manuscript could be sitting on top of one of the piles of paperwork and he wouldn't even notice. When he turns back to the table Sam is rising to leave.

“Thank you, for everything. We’ll keep you updated.” 

Weirdly, after looking deeply uncomfortable for the entire visit, it seems like it’s the sadness that makes Sam leave. 

John wants to ask what the hell is going on but he can’t bring himself to do it just yet. They have all afternoon to look at the case and right now Sam… he’s gone quiet. 

“You didn’t tell her about the deaths?” That’s something he can ask. It’s professional and distracting. Because as much as John wants to go over in detail what exactly happened in there he recognises the loss on Sam’s face. 

“I was going to. But she was so happy. And she had salt on the windows , wards engraved into the doorways and sigil artwork so it’s not like there’s anything I could have said.”

“Look Sam, I get that you care about this girl but she’s in danger and she needs to know about it. You hardly asked any questions about the case.” 

“Look, for the last time, Becky and I weren’t a thing. I’m not protecting her feelings. If God can’t keep her safe I have no idea what we’re supposed to do. And I didn’t need to. She told us everything she knew. We have nothing to go on for this case. I’m not going to tell her she’s in danger but I don’t know how to save her.” 

Sam doesn’t add that he’d been completely side-tracked by the book revelation. He mostly liked to pretend they didn’t exist but Becky was right, there was something very weird about Chuck just stopping like that. Unless he just didn’t want to show himself in a bad light, which was highly possible. It didn’t quite fit though. Chuck had gone to a lot of effort to have a self-updating USB drive – or not because he’s God and it might be no effort at all – only to abandon it? What was Amara doing to him? Or is this it? He’s finally abandoned humanity. Sam goes over the possibilities in his head and deliberately doesn’t think of all the ways Charlie must have helped them out, without them even knowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another longer chapter to make up for it being a tad late. 
> 
> Oh boy this one was difficult. I can't get a good grasp on Becky. I have a weird love of her which kind of obscures how mental she is and makes her really hard to write. The Becky here is slightly more mature which is probably OOC but also might be the effects of her being five years older and wiser. 
> 
> I'm straight up fulfilling my headcanon that everyone in the Winchesters lives knows one another (because if you're trying to tell me Charlie wouldn't have tracked down Becky I'm going to argue with you).
> 
> Finally, I try to use Americanisms (not a lot - you'll pry the letter 'u' out of my cold, dead hands - but I know it can take you out of the story when the language doesn't match the setting) but this is the first time I've really struggled with it and its over a fucking memory stick! What in the Hell is the correct configuration of referring to a USB? To USBs? Or is it a flash drive? Why are there so many words for it?! I dunno and for the first time ever Google let me down. 
> 
> Okay rant over. Please send me love, I need it.


	23. Devil In The Dungeon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Charlie's voice* I'm back, bitches
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Check the tags and additional notes at the end, bit of a weird one this one

“So what’s he like?” Lucifer asks shuffling in the chair he is chained to. Castiel is staring upwards, like the humans who look to heaven for guidance. Lucifer hopes that Castiel knows better than that. 

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb, angel.” 

“He’s nothing like you.” 

“Aw. I bet he’s a chip off the old block and you’re just jealous.” 

“Do you really think Sam and Dean would have allowed him to live if that were the case?” 

Lucifer thrashes at that. His power is weakened but he still appears to have above average strength, managing to make the heavy chains tense in their moorings. 

Castiel looks at him quizzically. 

“You really care?” 

“Of course I care!” Lucifer snaps. “He’s my son.” 

Castiel hums to himself and turns his curious gaze to the wall across from him, like it is as equally interesting as a captured devil. 

“He doesn’t consider you his father.” It hangs in the air between them, who Jack considers to be his father. They both know it. 

“And you’re pimping him out to get information out of me. That doesn’t scream loving father to me. ” 

Castiel just raises a brow, still not looking at him.

“You’re using him. Do you even care about him, besides as a weapon? I’m willing to bet Sam and Dean don’t. The Winchesters use people, they always have. They do it all the time and you help them. You’re helping them use my son.”

“They love him. He’s a Winchester. They wouldn’t do that.” There’s a need to convince Lucifer of this. Sam and Dean would do anything for Jack; they had been searching for him for weeks without stopping. Lucifer doesn’t know that of course but at least he has an idea of what family means to Sam and Dean. The lengths they will go to keep him safe from Lucifer.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” Castiel begins to reply, yes, yes, of course I do, but he is cut off. “Family is whoever they want it to be. You can be in or out just as quickly. How many times have you been cast out? How many times has Sammy came first?” Of course Sam comes first, Sam will always come first. And Dean will always come first to Sam. They have developed a co-dependent relationship as a way of coping with the various and many traumas life has sent them. It’s a completely logical and expected outcome, and it hurts Castiel so much that he will always be the extra part. And any chance he might have had in taking first place in Dean’s heart he destroyed with his various betrayals. 

“And little Adam, the baby brother. Didn’t care all that much about him did they? Oh and Mary, the holy mother Mary, they seem have misplaced her. You’re not filling me with joy at the thought of their protective instincts keeping him safe.” 

“Jack is different,” Castiel grits out. 

-|- 

“His name is Jack?” Lucifer whispers.

Jack is a good name. He likes it. It means ‘God is gracious’ which is deeply sardonic all things considered but he likes that bite of irony. Lucifer forgets his taunting trying to remember the mother’s name, what was is it? Something Kline. What is one human name amongst billions? Except this one woman who bore his child. He cannot think of him as Jack Winchester, and he may have kept the name Lucifer but his son will never be known as the Morningstar. Kline, it is then. 

“Jack Kline?” 

Castiel appears surprised, shocked enough to actually look at him properly. 

“Yes. Kelly picked it.” 

“Ah yes, Kelly. That was her name.” There’s a flash of disgust on Castiel’s face. As if he was any better, the self-righteous prick. 

“Don’t get grumpy, seraph, how often did you remember their names?” Ah, there it is the flash of guilt. Guilt, over forgetting their names when their lives are so short there’s hardly time to remember it before they’re gone. What’s the point? 

“I do now.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Lucifer says, the bite of the devil back in his voice. “I’m sure your boyfriend’s got you all housetrained. Jack’ll be next.” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Castiel’s onto tripe, tired clichés, it’s almost too easy to get under his skin.

“What makes you think they’ve got dear Jackie’s interests at heart?”

“I know them.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Lucifer almost smiles and gives what he’s planning away. He enjoys these word games too much. 

“You don’t know them at all.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure. I seem to know Dean pretty well.” He smiles now that the insinuation is out there. 

Castiel seems to start forwards, as if to fight him. But he’s chained to this dumb, fucking chair that’s coming in oh so useful now, so there’s nothing more for Castiel to do to him but rock back into place. 

Lucifer continues, “What are the kids calling it these days? Biblically?” 

Castiel flinches.

“I didn’t want to, you know,” Lucifer says in a conversational tones, “I wouldn’t have minded but I was worried that I’d… blow my cover.” He represses a giggle. “Kept putting it off, then I had to give in before he got suspicious. You can tell he got around back in the day. Or not so long ago actually was it? He seemed to like me taking a more active role. Appreciated it. Made me wonder if you just lay there. What’s the matter? You have such a stick up your ass there’s no room for anything else?” 

“That’s enough,” Dean’s voice echoes in the dungeon. Cas is staring resolutely at the far wall. 

“Ooooh, trouble in paradise. Actually that’s another point, little brother. Where exactly do you see this going? The two of them have got that joint heaven shindig going on. I know upstairs has changed a fair bit but there’s no way they’re letting you into that section of eternity.” 

-|-

It’s the way he says he says ‘you’ that makes Dean do it. As if Cas is the scum on a shoe. Cas has been strong enough to resist the devils provocation but Dean isn’t. The first punch goes to Lucifer’s stomach, free of the chains around his wrists and shoulders. 

“Speak to him like that again and I’ll kill you.” Dean grabs his hair as he curls into protect his abdomen, and holds his head in place as he aims a punch at Lucifer’s head. It connects with an audible crunch. 

“You seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much Deano, maybe you don’t have to worry about that and it’ll be my playground you end up in.” The next few punches are in quick succession. The kick to Lucifer’s injured leg seems like an afterthought. 

“Former playground.” 

“What?”

“Former playground. Its Rowena’s now. And if we’re being honest it wasn’t really yours for very long was it? That must’ve sucked,” Dean’s voice of full of fake sympathy. “You finally got your chance at revenge, torturing humans, and daddy comes along and puts you on time out. Boohoo.” 

“I was cast out because I refused to bow down to you snivelling apes.” 

“Oh so daddy brought home the new baby and you were pissed? Are we gonna pretend that’s any less childish?” 

They’re face to face now. Lucifer is bleeding slightly, Dean’s pretty certain he gave him a broken nose which is satisfying somewhere deep down, but mostly he’s angry. 

“You have no idea what it was like. I was his favourite, his most beloved, his best soldier, his Morningstar, his Lightbringer. I followed him in everything and the one time I disobeyed, he cast me out. You have no idea what it’s like to be rejected by your own father.” 

There’s silence for a moment and Dean can see it on Lucifer’s face, the realisation that he just said the wrong thing. 

“I know exactly what that’s like.” 

 

-|-

 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“You just snapped his neck.” 

“He’ll heal.”

“Maybe he won’t. Maybe he’s human now.”

“Then I’ve done the world a favour.” 

“Dean…”

“What Cas? You want me to apologise for killing the devil? Because I’m not gonna.” 

“No I… He’s still breathing. He’s not dead. And if he’s paralysed I’ll heal him.” 

“God, that’s what you’re worried about?” 

“No.” Cas grabs Dean’s sleeve and pulls him to a halt in one of the bunker’s many corridors. “Your hand, it’s broken.” 

Cas lifts up Dean’s hand gently. As if it’s precious, Dean thinks. There’s that faintly warm feeling that comes along with Cas’ grace. It took him a long time to realise what that feeling was.

“I’m not angry at you for doing that.” 

Dean sighs, “Well you’re angry at me for something.” 

Cas drops Dean’s hand. Dean grabs Cas’ as it swings down. 

“Yes.”

“What?”

“How could you not know it was me?” 

“I… I don’t know. I just thought that you were being distant.” 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what? Cas, you gotta help me here.” 

Cas extracts his wrist from Dean’s too tight grip. 

“He said you enjoyed it.”

Dean’s hand reaches out but then it seems to stutter in the air. 

“I thought it was you. I never would have… Cas, if I’d known…” 

“Is it true?” 

Dean closes his eyes.

“Yes,” he opens them and reaches out again, “But I thought it was you. I thought it was you.” 

“I know that ever since I got my grace back that I’ve been different, that some things can overwhelm me, now I’m less human but if you, if you-”

“Wait, Cas, what the hell?” 

“If you preferred it-“

“No! No, Cas, Jesus. What are you talking about?”

“If you wanted me to act like him, I can-”

“Okay fucking stop now. Cas, I want you. I want you as you are. I want what we have right now.”

“You’re very experienced; I understand that you don’t-”

“Right seriously shut up for a sec, listen to me and then we’re never talking about this ever again. It’s not just you, okay? Ask my exes, sorry, Cas, you’re not that special. And honestly I enjoyed it with Lucifer okay? But now I just feel gross whenever I think about it. So we’re going to stop talking about it now.”

“Are you sure?”

“God Cas, of course I’m sure.” 

Cas’ smiles slightly. Dean reaches his hand out again and this time Castiel takes it. 

“Would you like to go to bed?” The angel asks looking up at him. They’re suddenly standing very close and Dean doesn’t know how it happened.

“You mean..?” 

“Yes, Dean. I’d like to.” 

“Okay.” Castiel loves Dean like this. He looks bashful. 

Castiel smiles and suddenly they’re standing even closer. 

-|-

The phone is at the bottom of a lost property box in a police station in Lower Tadfield. It has been there for months but it has never ran out of battery. It has never been modified but it is completely untraceable. Unfortunately it’s on silent; otherwise the police officers of Lower Tadfield would have been disturbed by its incessant ringing. 

Its location is interesting as the phone is not actually lost. Its owner knows exactly what where is, as He knows where everything is. He also knows its ringing, but He hasn’t bothered to check who’s calling. In fact He is deliberately avoiding thinking about it. He’s avoiding thinking about anything happening on Earth at the moment. He’s giving the kids some breathing room. It has actually occurred to Him in some corner of His vast consciousness that at this point He’d be eligible for absentee father awards but He’s mostly not thought of that.

If He actually looked, just fucking looked for once; He would see the blinking name on the screen. But as it was the flashing Becky was ignored. 

-|-

“Castiel? Dean?” Jack calls, sticking his head around the bedroom door. 

“Oh my God, fucking hell, get out!” Dean shouts. 

“Jack, we’ve had discussions about this in the past,” Cas says far too calmly. 

Jack’s firmly behind the door now, avoiding looking into the room. “In our discussions about privacy you said that it was okay to enter a room if a door was unlocked and it was!” 

Dean turns and faces the pillow. He mumbles, “He’s your son, you deal with him.” 

“Would now be a good time to send him to stay with Sam and John? I feel like he’d be safer in the vicinity of John than Lucifer.” 

Dean grunts in agreement. 

“Jack did you hear that?” 

“Yes! Bye!” 

There’s that distinctive teleportation sound and they’re alone again. 

“I think that was more awkward than our conversation earlier.” 

Dean just grunts again and laughs into the pillow. 

"Oh God."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned from the dead! Hit a bit of a writers block but thank Thornysourassassin for sitting me down and forcing me to write. Literally, I had to write 2,000 words before she let me watch Voltron. 
> 
> Also you might have noticed the ? in the chapters bar, that’s because I’m fiddling with my outline at the moment so just bear with me until I get that sorted. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: So one of the main ideas behind this fic was that I wanted to change as little as possible besides having Destiel be canon and actually I've hardly had to change anything at all. However one thing that did have interesting repercussions was the period when Castifer was a thing, basically assuming that Dean and Cas are a couple I imagine that when Lucifer was possessing Cas they'd have done it at least once. So this chapter deals with the non-consensual sex that happened between Dean and Lucifer in this time period, with Lucifer taunting them about it. Dean and Cas discus what happened but they don't handle it well. Again the aim of this fic is not to change the canon more than necessary so I imagine that in this world Dean and Cas don't have the healthiest relationship but they're trying to do better. It's skip-able if you're not comfortable with that as this chapter takes a break from plot and examines their relationship a little.


	24. Intimate

He’s been thinking it for a long time before he asks:

“Is it my fault?” In fact John’s been thinking about it pretty much since he found out. Am I responsible for this? He knows it’s a cheesy line, he’s fairly sure he remembers it from some soap opera on some beaten up old TV in a dingy hotel room. It sounds like something stupid. How can he be responsible for someone else’s actions? If it was anything else he’d place the blame on Dean but this might actually be his fault. He was never there. That’s what causes it isn’t it? Distant father figures. Too much maternal affection. Well Dean had never had that but John can willingly admit that he was obsessed with Mary. Did passing that obsession onto Dean harm him? Or was it forcing him to look after Sammy in the role of a mother do it? 

He remembers changing the channel. 

“What?” Sammy doesn’t even take his eyes away from the research. 

“That Dean’s like… that?” John knows that it is. He knows how this works. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d probably mess up his children for life, he’d even been okay with it if it meant that they knew about the dangers in the world and how to stay safe, but he’d never imagined it would be like this.

“Bisexual, dad. You can say it. It’s not a dirty word.” Sam huffs and pushes his laptop away. John watches him cross his arms, defensive position, argumentative. 

Bisexual, like Claire. How had he not noticed earlier? Oh God, he’s made such a mess of this. 

“And he’s…” He forces the word out, “bisexual because…?” He’s not sure what he’s expecting Sam to say. Maybe he’ll place all the blame on him, or maybe there’s some new scientific discovery he’s missed, it’s all genetic. Sam would know about stuff like that. Maybe it was some kind of cosmic intervention, that fucking angel tying Dean to him.

“I dunno, he just is,” Sam snaps. John leans forwards on the table.

“No one just is that way, son.” John needs answers, not Sam’s protective brother instinct fighting him off.

“Don’t call me that.” Yeah, that hurts, “And they are. That’s how it works.”

“Really?” There’s a genuine note of surprise in there. 

“I mean yeah, they still haven’t exactly worked out why people are gay or straight or inbetween but it’s natural, normal.” Sam looks into the distance with a grim look, “As God intended.” 

“What you said, the day after I came back… God… He’s…?” And that’s another thing he’s going to have to get his head around. He’d never been sold on the whole God thing but there’s no choice now. 

“God is exactly as you’d expect him to be.” John’s thinking divine fury and Heavenly love as the same time somehow. Sam’s thinking lying, two-bit writer with a love of drama. It’s a strange world that they’re both right.

“And He really doesn’t care that Dean…?” John knows it’s a stupid question. He knows what case they’re on but maybe the rules are different for God. Is He even male? Does God have a gender? He’s possessing a guy right? But maybe it’s one rule for him and another for everyone else, which sounds about right. 

“Likes men and women? No, in fact he gave Cas and Dean his seal of approval.” Sam doesn’t add that he also gave them a very large, pink dildo. He’d laughed at the look on Dean’s face until Cas had mumbled something about Dean’s ‘more impressive girth.’ After than Dean was the one laughing at Sam. “And, well, you’ve seen his list of exes, I don’t think he’s very picky himself.”

John considers this. He’d only met Becky but she seems like a strange choice for anyone to date, let alone God. 

“Are you really worried about them?” Sam asks, “That’s what’s been bothering you?” 

“Some of it.” It really is. He knows Sam’s assuming that he’s running off prejudices but really he’s concerned more than disgusted. This isn’t what he wanted for Dean and he definitely doesn’t want Dean damned for it. The disgust is there but for the moment its secondary. “Way I see it we’ve all been through Hell, literally. I don’t want Dean going back there. I mean, it’s not like it’s the first thing that popped into my head, but I was raised with church every Sunday and some of it stuck even after everything. ‘Cept, turns out, just not the right parts.” He manages to say everything that he wanted to get out. John isn’t used to bearing his heart. It’s gonna take a lot of stops and starts before he gets it running smoothly again.

Sam hums at that, “I don’t think there are right parts.” 

“Huh?” 

“As far as I know the angels are angels, yeah but Cas has mentioned a few prophets too and some of them date back to ancient times and from loads of different religions. Honestly I don’t like to ask about this kinda stuff. I think I’m happier not knowing, if anything Dean’s…” Sam trails off. 

John supresses a sigh, “Dean’s what?”

“Dean’s better at this whole thing. Even if I asked I’m not sure that Cas would tell me but I know he’s told Dean at least the basics of how everything works.” Sam runs his fingers through his impractical hair and it looks like he’s attempting to act like he isn’t gauging John’s expressions for minute details. John’s not sure how he’s supposed to look. What in the Hell kinda information is that? So the angel tells Dean shit. Maybe big ass cosmic stuff he’s not supposed to. Well from the sounds of it they’ve been together a long time, that’s expected. It’s actually kinda reassuring. And then it’s not when John thinks of all the things the angel cannot possibly be telling Dean. The creature is thousands of years old, what do they have in common? How close can they ever really be?

“Then there’s stuff we’ve worked out, like the communication thing, angels, demons, most deities can speak any language you throw at them but we just thought it was because they were really old and had picked them up. But get this: it’s actually automatic. Basically for anything that has a naturally incorporeal state when they take human form, either in a vessel they’ve possessed or created, the world around them actually influences that vessel and vice versa, it’s like an energy trade off. Because there’s the paradox of something incorporeal suddenly taking up space some really wacky physics happens. It allows them to manipulate the world around them, like knowing every language. It’s how they can teleport or how angels both do and don’t have their wings at the same time. It’s amazing!” Sam suddenly seems to realise that he’d been geeking out in front of John and clamps down on it. He coughs and shuffles in his chair. It’s nice to know that he still acts like that when he’s excited, John thinks.

“Besides,” Sam continues, “I’m pretty sure Cas dumbs down a lot of what he tells us in a way we can understand. Because angel garrisons? Come on, the hierarchy of those over millennia is just not sustainable. There’s gotta be tons of stuff he decides isn’t relevant or simplifies.”

“There’s one thing I don’t understand. I’ve fought some pagan gods in my time. What’re they? If Gods real why aren’t they. Or are they just plain old monsters?”

“No, look I don’t really understand, I was kidding when I said I never ask about any of this because I really, really don’t want to know, this is just what I’ve picked up. Basically big G God is basically the God of creation, everything else comes from him. Pagan gods, any god with a small jurisdiction like war or crops or something like that they’re all just things that have, I don’t know, appeared over time? 

“But it doesn’t make anything else less real. I mean, pray to a Hindu or Norse god who’s still kicking and they might actually help you, or kill you. If you pray to Chuck he’s not gonna answer.”

“Why doesn’t he answer though?” John’s main doubts about God came from the thought that God couldn’t be real because if He was He’d do something. He wouldn’t have allowed Mary to die, or if He had He would’ve sent a miracle those nights when John considered giving it all up. Dropping the boys off at Bobby’s, sending the last few dollars in his wallet to Adam and finally, finally, drowning himself in beer. 

“I really, really wish I knew. I think he cares… in his own way. I think he just wanted something to exist. I mean Chuck’s a writer right? Look, if you think about it it kinda makes sense that God’s a writer, or he chose for his cover to be a writer. But he kept sending them to Becky so I think it’s actually something he is, not just his act thing he did. In fact it explains a lot. Writers create things but they never need to look after them. I think Chuck's like that. I think he likes stories, he likes characters. He just doesn’t like people very much. I mean if you meet him he acts like the guy who had no friends in high school. ” 

“I’m not gonna lie, Sam. You lost me there. Are these those books about you? ‘The Winchester Gospels’?” 

Sam picks up a beer and hands it to John.

“Here, you’ll need it,” He says before picking up one of his own. “Know how I said Chuck and the angels and the demons always are messing with our lives? Dean and I, we’ve got destinies in the most annoying way possible. Basically when something bad goes down we’re always right in the middle of it. Because of all that we actually knew that God had been missing for years so we never really thought much about it. It made sense, God made humanity then fucked off as far as we could tell and the angels had only just noticed he was missing. Wasn’t our problem.” 

Sam flinches. “Actually then Cas kinda went off the rails a bit, went super powered and declared himself God? So it was our problem but also he and Dean were in a weird pseudo fight for that whole period, this was before they were together-together, so we tried to stay out of it as much as we could as well.” 

John is fairly certain his brain doesn’t even have the faintest idea how to begin grasping any of that so he files it away to deal with much later. Maybe in the next life later. Are there next lives? Is that a thing?

“So anyways, we first met Chuck before all that happened when he was pretending to be a prophet, writing about our lives. We told him to stop, threatened him actually.” Sam chuckles, John chokes. “It was pretty recently that we found out he was, you know, the big guy upstairs.”

“Jesus Christ,” John whispers, then his eyes widen, “You’re not, you know, the next Jesus or something right.”

Sam splutters and laughs, “No. We’re all in so much trouble if that’s the case.” 

Thank fuck, John knows he couldn’t cope with that. Then an idea hits him.

“So these books? They’re everything I missed when I was away?”

Sam sits up straighter. “Yeah…” 

“So where can I read them?” This is brilliant; it’s an actual fucking gift. He doesn’t need to a have missed out on anything. 

-|-

Sam hadn’t even thought to dread something like this. The thought of John reading them is horrifying. Some details were cut out, like his demon blood addiction, but there was so much else in those books that his skin crawls when he thinks about anyone reading them. He’s used to the feeling, and he knows objectively that many, many people do read them, Hell, he’d given them to Jack to read because he trusts Jack but John- 

It’s an invasion of privacy he can’t comprehend, all his emotions laid bare, in some parts even his very thoughts typed out on the page. 

Oh fuck, Dean and Cas. There’s sex scenes in there, he hasn’t read them, he’d rather cut his eyes out than read them, he’d needed brain bleach the one time he’d flicked open on the wrong page that one time. Dean doesn’t even know about those scenes and Sam is never going to tell him. 

“There is no possible way that you’re ever reading those,” He says with absolute finality. 

He’s not expecting John’s rage.

-|- 

Jack is really not sure about this. He knows objectively that he will be safer with John than with Lucifer but he’s still deeply uncomfortable. Can’t he go stay with Claire? Claire’s nice. Well no, she’s not, the one time he met her she was incredibly mean but he liked her anyways. 

Or he could… well that’s it really. There’s nice police station boy, Clark, who he was kind to him. But he thinks that you need to be quite close to someone before you can show up unannounced and he’d only met Clark once. Claire’s different because she was technically his sister, even if she’d punched him when he said that. 

He’s just sorta drifting around in the inbetween space, putting off going to see Sam and John thinking about stuff.

Are those really all the people he knows? That seems sad. He should probably have more friends. Plus all the people he hangs around with are way older than him and most of them fulfil a parental role in one way or another. He should be around people his own age, not six month olds, like… how old even is his body anyways? Could he go to school? College? He’ll have to ask Sam. Sam when to college. He’d spoken fondly of it now and again. 

He’s really stalling now. And he doesn’t even know why. It’s not like people haven’t attempted to kill him before. He knows that before he was born Castiel intended to kill him and when he first met Sam and Dean they also planned to do so. Then there have been the angels and the demons too. John is just another person in an already long list, one who’d already stabbed him in the kitchen upon his arrival. 

But there was something about this time. It was in his own room, which he’s carefully beginning to decorate with posters of his own choosing. There’s a photo of his mother in the bedside table’s top drawer. There are his clothes in the wardrobe. He was supposed to be safe there. After weeks of hardly sleeping and being constantly weary he was supposed to be coming home.

He needs to speak to Sam about this when he gets the chance, but for now he’ll be on his guard. 

-|-

Sam doesn’t notice Jack when he appears in the room; he’s too busy yelling at John. This is it. He’s handled himself pretty well up until now. Kept things calm, but he cannot do it anymore.

“It’s our privacy! How would you like it if I read a book about your life? Just back of!”

There’s both standing up now.

“What’ve you got to hide? Why won’t you show it to me?”

“Jesus, it’s not about that!” Sam lets out a snarl of frustration.

“Then show them to me!” 

“CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE IT ALONE?” 

“NO. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE HIDING!”

“I thought you didn’t. I thought you were okay with Dean and I filling you in or was that a lie?”

“Yeah like you’ve actually told me anything useful!” 

“I JUST TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT CHUCK!”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME ABOUT DEAN AND THAT FUCKING ANGEL. YOU DIDN’T TELL ME ABOUT THE HELLSPAWN YOU’VE ADOPTED-”

“Don’t you dare talk about Jack like that! You know you’ve always been like this, controlling, but normally you didn’t care, you didn’t give a fuck about our lives-”

“You don’t speak to me like that!”

“Well, guess what? I just did.” 

-|-

John flings his beer bottle at the wall. The liquid pools on the floor. Jack watches the drips roll down the walls. Sam sounds like a petulant teenager. It’s disturbing Sam is normally steadfast, calm, someone who’s been through hell and made it out the other side. Literally and figuratively. 

“Um,” Jack interrupts before they can do anything physically damaging to one another. Sam calms almost instantly. 

“Hey, Jack.” 

John, who’s closer to him takes a step back and braces himself against the wall.

“Dean and Cas sent me. They thought I’d be safer here than near my biological father.” Jack knows Sam knew that he was coming but he’s just checking that he’s still welcome.

Sam begins to say something but he’s cut off by John’s: “Holy fuck.” John lowers himself into a chair. 

“That’s what Dean and Castiel are working on? The Devil!?” He asks Sam, ignoring Jack. Sam nods.

“He’s in the dungeons,” Jack adds, wanting to be helpful. 

“That’s what their ‘bigger problem’ was?” 

“They’ve got it covered,” Sam reassures him. Jack notes that John doesn’t look reassured. 

“They have the devil ‘covered’?” John asks quietly.

“Yep,” Jack replies, smiling happily. “Can we move on? I feel like we’ve exhausted this line of communication. I have information to tell you.” 

“What is it?” Sam asks immediately, slipping into hunting mode automatically.

“There was another death last night, kept out of the papers. But as far as I can tell, they were not one of Chuck’s lovers.” Jack hands the file he compiled to Sam and takes out his phone to double check he sent the links. He did. It says Sam hasn’t read them yet.

“If you check your phone you’ll see additional information. I sent it some time ago.” 

Sam takes out his phone and flicks through it.

“What did Dean say?”

“Oh he hasn’t seen it yet.”

Sam looks up, “Why not?” 

“I tried to tell him and Castiel. However they were together at the time I entered the room and told me to come here.” 

“What?” John looks confused.

“It was a few minutes ago. I thought that giving them time to finish would be best so we could call them and fill them in once they were no longer intimate.” Yes, Jack thought, good excuse for the time spent in the inbetween.

“Intimate!?” John blurts out. 

“It’s a euphemism for sex,” Jack supplies. 

Sam laughs at John’s facial expression more than Jack can recall him ever laughing before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This note isn't about the chapter itself but if anyone's interested there's this thing I've come across  
> called the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. Basically its when the author lets the reader know what kind of feedback they want.
> 
> This isn't necessarily about this fic as I get so many wonderful comments on this story (thank you all so much!!!!) but it's something that I think is pretty important for readers/authors to know about. Basically we all know Ao3 has some issues, you can't kudos individual chapters, you can't like other people's comments, sometimes the difference between hits and comments is ridiculous, etc, I'm sure you have your own. Not bashing Ao3, its an amazing non-profit resource and honestly the staff always seen kinda stressed so I think this is a really good idea for us to try and fix some of these problems ourselves in the meantime so please check it out. Anyways here's the thingie: 
> 
> This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
> (Seriously, leave me a note saying 'yay' or 'nooo, angst', tell me why you've bookmarked or subscribed and it'll put a stupid grin on my face) 
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
> (Ask me questions, I love questions) 
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> (I'm quite bad for when I'm reading someone else's fic at seeing a comment of something I was going to say and then just not writing anything. From now on if someone has a comment I agree with I'm gonna leave a little 'me too' reply) 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments, but may not reply. (Sometimes I get a bit anxious and I always feel awkward leaving a just a thank you so I only really only reply when I think I have something interesting to say but I read and appreciate every single one of them)
> 
> Spiel over, hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	25. Not An Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I've told a few people in the comments this but I'm just gonna put it here too: This fic isn't getting abandoned. I'm dedicated to finishing it. However I can't guarantee when updates will be. I will try to do at least one a week because I think that is manageable and a lot less stressful than the three days I was doing before. I'm also going to try to avoid months long breaks, that was down to me being really unhappy with the ending and my outline so I completely changed the ending and basically added a whole second half to the fic that didn't exist originally. I can't imagine that happening again but if it does know that this means too much to me to leave unfinished.

“SAM?!”

“Becky, what happened?!” Sam’s got his phone partially on his ear but mostly on his chin. He looks more that slightly frazzled. He definitely wasn’t expecting that when he picked up.

“Oh my God, oh my God, Sam! It’s just so awful!” Becky cries before breaking down into full on hysterical sobbing that screeches down the phone line to Sam. 

“Becky, please calm down and tell me what happened.”

“It’s Shane! He’s, he’s dead!” She manages to wail in inbetween sobbing breaths. 

“Who’s dead? Are you okay?” 

“SHANE!” She screams before hiccupping. 

John hears her voice through the phone and raises his eyebrows. Sam makes the universal facial expression of ‘I dunno what’s going on’ at him.

“Who’s Shane?” 

“He’s dead!” 

Oh my God, Sam mumbles under his breath. He’s about to seriously loose his patience.

“I really need your help. Please, I think this might be the kinda case you deal with and I’m so scared.” Suddenly it clicks, Shane Holt, last night’s victim. Burned to death in an open fire, used as an oven in his medieval themed restaurant. Suspiciously similar to how Dean took out Gretel after he got turned into a teenager. Because this case can’t just be about people from God’s past getting killed, oh no, they need to drag events from their lives and the books into this. 

Sam pulls out a notebook and pen, “Tell me everything.” 

-|-

“So not only do the deaths have to do with Good’s exes-” 

John is cut off by Sam, “Not exes, Shane and Chuck were just friends according to Becky so that’s that theory gone.” 

Jack leans forwards and rests his elbows on the backs of the front seats. He’s chewing gum loudly. John tilts towards the window. Thankfully the journey to Becky’s house will be quick. 

“But they were also killed in ways distinctive to how you’ve killed monsters in the past? Jesus Sammy. I thought that was just a theory?” 

“It was until last night but this guy died in an old open fire oven and I think we need to take that as proof.” 

“What’s that from?” Jack asks, he’s struggling to speak around the gum in his mouth and John thinks that they may have actually found a way to shut him up. Jack seems to have decided that the best way to infuriate John is to be really fucking chatty and friendly. 

“Eh Dean killed this witch, I think that’s what she was, by burning her to death inside her own oven. The same kind that Shane happens to own and which he burned to death inside.” 

“Okay two things,” Jack says leaning forwards even more. “Firstly when was this? I don’t remember it. And secondly is that just a coincidence or is whatever’s doing this, I mean it had to have seen the oven, right?” Jack swallows the gum with an audible gulp. “And thirdly, is chewing gum supposed to make you feel sick?”

Sam just laughs at him.

“You won’t remember it, it was before you were born and, honestly, my guess is that they saw it and thought it was too good of an opportunity to miss, either spur of the moment or if they hand a look around beforehand. How many of those have you swallowed?” 

“No, I meant it wasn’t in the books.” Great so the fucking Devil’s son read these books and he didn’t. “Like, three packets? I like the flavour but they appear to be reacting negatively with my digestive tract so I will stop now.” 

“You’re not supposed to swallow them, you spit them out.” 

“Spit them out?! That seems unhygienic.” Jack scrunches up his nose. 

“Into a bin or something. And you’re not supposed to swallow them or they stay in your stomach for seven years but I think that’s an old wives tale and besides it’s you, so you’ll probably be fine. I think super healing can deal with some gum. If you think you’re really gonna puke though tell me and I’ll pull over.” Sam’s shaking his head at Jack’s disgruntled air. 

“Seven years seems an inordinate amount of time.” 

“You always talk like that, kid?” John cuts in. Jack looks suddenly nervous and slides back onto the back seat. John has to twist in his chair to look at him. “Like you swallowed a dictionary instead of some gum?” 

“Yes, I do. I have a formal knowledge of language. I am very young and still unaccustomed to… speaking in a casual way. I believe that I will, in time like my father Castiel has, gain a better understanding.” 

“Castiel’s your father...?” That doesn’t match up at all with what John knows. Is it possible that they haven’t told the kid? No, they must’ve.

“Adoptive. I choose him. My mother said that he would look after me. However after my birth, with Castiel and my mother dead, Sam and Dean took me in. I am grateful,” Jack almost pleads, he sounds so earnest. “They looked after me until Castiel returned and they accepted me into their family. They protected me from many dangers and kept me safe.” 

“You do know they’ve got Lucifer tied up in their dungeon right?” John asks him outright, there’s no point dodging the subject. Jack frowns and for a second John thinks he hit a nerve until he realises it’s actually a look of profound concentration.

“I… I do not believe I would get along well with my birth father.” 

“Huh,” John says.

-|-

Jack knows the importance of convincing John of his innocence of whatever John believes him to be, perhaps by his very nature. However he finds that he struggles to articulate everything he wants to say. How can he tell this man of how vulnerable he was? Lost and lonely. Everyone who loved him left him to face the world alone. He was lucky, lucky that he found the nice Sherriff and Clark and Sam and Dean. Lucky that he was loved. So many abandoned children do not face the same fate. 

But how can he tell John this? How can he tell John how important their family is when he knows John does not see it? 

-|-

They pull up onto Becky’s street and there’s a handy parking space near her house. They make their way quickly towards her front door but right before Sam knocks it opens and a police officer steps out. 

The guy widens his eyes for a second at Sam’s size and John can’t really blame him but then he seems to zero in on Sam’s face.

“Do you look familiar?” The officer asks. John sees another one inside still talking to Becky.

“Em, no. I get that a lot. I’m pretty tall so if you’ve seen me around or on the street or anything…” Sam’s got his acting face on. They’d mentioned trouble with the law hadn’t they?

“Yeah of course. That’ll be it. Can I ask what you’re doing here?” If Sam gets recognised and arrested this could go very wrong, very quickly. 

“I’m-”

“HE’S MY BOYFRIEND! This is Sam-” Becky shoves past the officers and attaches herself to Sam’s side.

“Puller. This is my dad, Eric, and my brother, James.” Both John and Jack shake the officer’s hand. “They were in the car with me when I got Becky’s call so…”

“Well that’s good of you to come straight away.” 

“Thank you officer, but Becky seems pretty shaken so I better-”

“Not a problem. Miss, again my condolences.” The officer finally allows them enough room to get through. John watches as he and his partner walk down the street and round the corner. That’s why they didn’t spot a police car. That was uncomfortably close. 

“Eh, Becky, you can let go of me now.” When John turns around to look in Sam’s direction he sees Becky nuzzling into Sam’s chest like a cat. It’s weird. 

She jumps back and detaches herself from him.

“That was so embarrassing; can we pretend it didn’t happen? Like, I’ve got a boyfriend now and he’s not even that tall, well he’s over six foot, but he’s, well he’s got long hair but it’s blond, well blond-y brown, and he doesn’t believe in ghosts or anything and that was just a very weird moment for me.” 

Sam’s turning very pink, “Let’s just forget all about it.” 

“Fantastic. I want you to know that I’m over you. Completely. I’ve just had a rough morning.” 

“I mean, that’s understandable. Do you wanna talk us through what happened?” Sam gestures over towards the table they sat at yesterday where Jack is already seated. 

“Who are you cutie pie?” Jack looks delighted when she taps him on the head.

“This is Jack. It’s kinda complicated but he’s helping us out.” 

“I’m a really big fan,” Jack says, a beaming smile on his face. “The way you take G-Carver Edlunds work and post it online for everyone while running all the fan sites is really amazing.” Jack seems to glance over at Sam’s face and something on it makes the Nephilim look chastised. “Although obviously the whole fake married thing is a bit… um, you seem really nice though!” Fake marriage? What fake marriage? Actually, scrap that, he doesn’t want to know. That would explain Sam and Becky’s weirdness though.

Becky appears to be blinking quite a bit. Probably realising there’s someone weirder than you on the planet must be a bit of a shock. 

John decides to tune out their entire conversation and begins to go through Becky’s masses of paperwork. 

“What’re you doing?” Damn it, he was hoping they’d just ignore him.

“Looking for anything related to the case.” Sam’s glaring at him but he might as well try his luck, “Do you have anything from the Gretel the witch case? Any copies of the book?” 

“No, that’s what I was saying. That book was never published. Dean being a 14 year old just didn’t work written down. I’m sure it must’ve been fun in real life for you Sam, getting to be the big brother, but for the flow of the books it just wasn’t fitting so I cut it.” Suddenly her eyes fill with tears. “I just don’t understand. It was never published; the only copy is there to you left, no that pile there, and the thumb drive of course. I just found out about the serial killer theory when the police were here but I don’t understand how they can be getting their inspiration from the books if that one basically doesn’t exist. And I’d already called you by that point anyways.” She clings to Sam sleeve but by some miracle manages to finish talking before breaking down into sobs. 

“That’s why we’re pretty sure that it’s some kind of supernatural creature,” Sam says soothingly and John doesn’t know how he hasn’t yelled at her to pull herself together yet. “We thought it might be a serial killer too but this rules that out completely. We’re gonna fix this okay? But right now I need you tell me everything that’s happened this morning.”

John finally finds the manuscript he’s looking for but when he pulls it out of the pile something else falls out with it. 

“What’s this?” He knows what it is of course, but he wants to know why it’s in Becky’s home.

“It’s sage and some other herbs, for cleansing.” She starts going very red, “I dabbled in witchcraft after I found out about this world but I’ve really cut it back. I have Sam, I promise.” Sam is going very red too. “It’s just for safety. You know, salt, wards, purification.” 

“She’s a fucking witch?” John yells. Becky looks at Sam guiltily.

“Dad, for once just leave it. Please can we focus on the case? She says it’s for cleansing and purification, and it looks like sage, lavender, cedar which are for cleansing and purification so if Becky wants to feel safe in her own home knowing about the dangers of the world how about we let her do that? And just so you know we’ve got a full on herbalist shop going on back in the bunker.” 

John puts the bundle back down. 

At least she’s not a fucking angel, he thinks.


	26. Never Had This Before

“We’ve got a lot of new leads,” Sam says, pulling out a leather bound book from one of the bunker’s many shelves. Jack immediately disappears again, presumably to go look for Cas. Dean still looks a little startled from Sam and Jack’s sudden arrival. He’s shirtless with his night robe on, a cup of coffee in his hand and looks like he’s just woke up, despite it being the middle of the day. Sam really hopes he has boxers on underneath. 

“Where’s dad?”

“Left him behind to look after Becky. She’s got a police guard – they’re worried she might be next – but I think from now on one of use should be with her at all times.” 

“Good idea. So why’re you here?” 

“I’m going to fill you in on the new leads we’ve got and hopefully get some research done.” Sam emphasises his point by dropping the book he’s carrying firmly onto the desk. It’s made of solid wood but still looks like it’s straining a little bit. The book is one of those old massive ones in Latin with illumination on the pages that are about the size of Dean’s torso. They have a large collection of them that Sam banned Dean from touching after he spilled coffee on one. Sam normally only digs them out when they’re looking for something serious.

“And you couldn’t do that over the phone because…?” Dean says, sliding into the seat across from Sam. 

“Jack made it clear that you were very busy.” 

Dean splutters, with splashes of his coffee flying and narrowly missing Sam’s book. 

“Seriously, Dean? Again?!”

“It’s fine, Sammy. None of them landed. You wanna repeat that?”

“It’s the middle of the day; you have bed head and no clothes on. I’m not an idiot.” Dean sighs in relief. “And Jack did imply, in front of dad and I, that you were having sex with Cas, which he walked in on. But let’s focus.”

“Jesus Christ-”

“I get you’re having a freak out, I really do. But if we don’t solve this Becky’s gonna be dead in five days, and one of us in eight.”

-|-

“So Becky is reasonably certain that the deaths are in order of who saw Chuck last?” Dean asks.

“Yes. Almost like clockwork. We’ve also been looking at it wrong. The people who died weren’t people Chuck slept with, or at least not just people he slept with, they’re people he genuinely cared about. They’re his friends.

“If it goes in receding order of people who physically saw him in person most recently, which I am pretty sure it is, then that indicates it involves some kind of variation of a proximity or a priority spell. Which shows how good they are because I would have reversed the attachment locator spell and combine it with some kind of failsafe that makes sure it doesn’t kill everyone on earth starting from the person Chuck likes the least and that’s just trying to work out who Chuck cares about. They’ve used a simple attachment locator spell, modified it and added either a modified proximity or priority spell to act as the failsafe. They’re a genius! I still don’t know how they’re killing people though. Maybe something unique they’ve created? 

“Or there’s absolutely no magic involved and they’re killing them in person. Which I feel like the FBI would have picked up on so maybe they’re magically disguising themselves but committing the murders physically? What do you think?” 

“He slept with all his friends?” Dean raises an eyebrow. It’s like he didn’t even hear what he was saying. 

“It’s Chuck, sounds about right. From what Becky said he was good at being friends with people but not at being in a relationship. Plus one of the guys, Daniel Landry, and him never dated, it was just the pattern was exes so the papers and the police assumed he was one. Landry was married and Becky said that was something Chuck would never do. But yeah from the sounds of it he dated people and when they broke up he actually did the whole ‘let’s just be friends’ thing,” Sam answers without even looking up from the page. Dean thinks he might actually be reading at the same time as talking. 

“Well, well done him, I guess.” 

“Stop being judgy, Mister one-night-stands-only. You’re not any better, just without the friends part.”

“Harsh.” Dean even looks a little hurt.

“Okay. I’m sorry, but can you please take this seriously? Becky’s in danger.” 

“Awww, worried about your girlfriend?” 

Sam slams the book shut. 

“Stop. For once in your life can you just be… Dean this is serious. This is someone we know in danger. From someone who is trying to piss off God. Someone who woke up one morning and went ‘Know what? I’m going to kill off all of God’s loved ones.’ That’s the kinda crazy we’re dealing with and seeing as Chuck is always meddling in our lives, I’m realistically thinking that he cares about us, at least a bit, probably more than say: Joseph Marks, 44 from Indiana who he dated briefly then stayed in touch with for a while but hadn’t spoken to for the past five years. So we’re fucked if we don’t fix this. We’re next. And even if we do it’s probably not going to be in time to save Sandra Black, who just lost her husband yesterday when he was burnt alive in an antique oven. She’s Becky’s best friend and if the pattern stays the same she’s going to be dead in two days. Then Becky. Then probably me because I saw him right before he left to go to Amara. Then you, Dean. And to top it all off we’re probably going to die in some way that we’ve already lived through. If we’re lucky we get a nice beheading like all the vampires we’ve killed, or maybe you get ripped to shreds by Hellhounds all over again.” 

Sam finally stops and hauls the book open, flicking through for the page he was on. He doesn’t even look at Dean.

Finally Dean says, “You’re right.” 

“No kidding.” 

Dean glugs down the last of his coffee, it burns, and pulls the notes Sam had made of his conversation with Becky over. 

-|-

 

Castiel and Jack have joined them now. Jack had filled Castiel in on everything, in a rather more calm manner. When they’d entered the room they’d immediately noticed the chilly silence and set about researching anything that might block the spell or protect the victims from it, in silence. But witchcraft was tricky; often the only solution was to find the witch. The witch who remained elusive. And that was if it even was a witch. 

Dean startles when Castiel looms over his shoulder. Castiel knew Dean let his guard down usually in the bunker but seeing him caught unawares working on a case with Lucifer in the dungeon shows just how weary he is.

“You and Sam need to eat. And sleep. One of you needs to switch places with your father tomorrow.” 

Dean leans back in his chair a little and Castiel enjoys the warmth his body brings for a moment. 

“What time is it?”

“Nearly 4am.” 

Dean sighs and kicks Sam under the table.

“C’mon, Sam. Time to get some grub and hit the sack,” Dean says as he stands up. Castiel steps back to move out of his way but Dean pulls him close quickly and places a kiss on his cheek. 

“Night,” He mumbles, walking away in the direction of the kitchen. Sam hasn’t moved. Castiel knows that Sam will work until he passes out of they let him. Castiel also knows that Dean expects him to rouse Sam from the desk, after about ten minutes and Dean has had enough time to prepare food. Because that is was they always do. Dean expects something of Castiel and Castiel does it. Not because he has to or is obligated. But because that is their routine. That is what tells Castiel that he is home.

It’s just never included goodnight kisses on the cheek before. 

Castiel knows that Dean is stressed and tired, which might explain it. But he often is. He’s never done that before. They’ve never had the easy affection that he saw in other couples. They show their love in other ways: Sam complains often enough at their intense eye contact or Dean pretends to be annoyed at the way they orbit one another, as if Castiel is invading Dean’s space instead of them gravitating towards one another. As if he can’t subconsciously feel the way the universe has always pulled them together. That’s the way it’s always felt to Castiel. At first he fought against it. Even at the very beginning when he realised what had made him so adamant to save Dean from Hell he fought against it. It felt too much like his Father, the crushing inevitability of His will bearing down upon him. 

It took him a long time to realise it had nothing to do with Him. It was love, from the first moment he saw Dean’s soul. He just didn’t recognise it at first. The kind of all-consuming love he suspected all those poems he didn’t understand were about. It was not the demanded adoration of the Father and cool regard for his fellow angels he had experienced in Heaven. Not even the love he felt for humanity now he had lived among them. 

It was scary and intimidating and for so long he hadn’t known what it was because of this. It wasn’t anything he’d been taught. But when he accepted it, he saw that it was, in fact, dangerous, as he’d suspected, but also beautiful. As beautiful as Dean’s soul. 

They’ve never had this though. 

Castiel wonders if this is Dean finally letting John go. Ironically all it took was him coming back for Dean to realise what was really important to him. It is easier to argue with a real man than a dead one. Is this what Dean picking Castiel, putting him first feels like? 

Castiel looks around and realises that neither Sam nor Jack have noticed his lengthy introspection. He walks over and shakes Sam’s shoulder. Sam is too tired to register the smile on Castiel’s face. 

-|-

“Bacon and eggs,” Dean says needlessly as he tips it from the pan onto Sam’s plate. 

“Thanks.” Dean thinks they’re going to eat in silence after that. Both too tired to do or say anything but Sam must gather up the energy from somewhere because Dean is wrong.

“Look. I’m sorry for what I said before. I was really stressed and I’ve been stuck with dad for the past few days. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” 

“It’s fine,” Dean says, hoping against all hope that Sam is not initiating a heart to heart at 4am in their kitchen. 

“No, it’s not. I know you’ve been just as stressed as I have and dad being back is even worse for you.” 

The last of Dean’s hope dies. This might actually be okay though, he’s so sleep deprived (when did that happen? He used to be able to go days without sleep) that he might actually forget this conversation by the morning. 

“It’s really not, Sam. It’s fine. I’m dealing with it.” 

“You’re really not though.” 

Dean shovels some eggs in his mouth as an excuse not to speak. Unfortunately that just means Sam continues uninterrupted. 

“I actually think… We’ve talked about it. I mean it might not be as bad as you think. His reaction. It seems like he’s trying to understand.” 

“I really don’t care. I’m gay. What’s there to understand?” 

“Aren’t you bi, right?” Sam’s eyebrows have raised a little bit and all Dean wants is to fall asleep and not wake up until all of this is over.

“Yeah. I know I am. It’s a figure of speech or whatever.” Sometimes, for all Sam tries to be a supportive ally or whatever, he’s just so… Sam. Dean’s vaguely aware that Sam’s still talking but he tunes it out. Sam doesn’t ever seem to grasp that all Dean wants is for it not to be a big deal. He doesn’t want to be corrected when he uses the word gay for the wrong thing. He only knows all the LGBTs because Sam kept bringing them up awkwardly and okay yeah, he might feel like this because of some internal homophobia or biphobia or whatever, probably caused by his dad, but he’s pretty sure he’d not at the place where he’s comfortable to admit that even to himself. He really doesn’t need Sam monologue about his daddy issues at 4am in the fucking morning. 

“Can you please just stop?” Dean groans. He was so wrong to think it might be more bearable if he was half asleep, it just makes him even more exhausted.

Sam continues like he hasn’t even heard him, “Maybe this would all be easier if dad had been alive we’d have had ten years for him to get used to it-” 

“If dad wasn’t alive Cas and I wouldn’t be together,” Dean snaps. 

Sam finally stops. Great, now he’s staring.

“Please can we just go to bed. Please?” 

“That’s … that’s sad, Dean.” It’s like Sam is totally unaware of what this conversation is doing to him.

“Yeah it is. It’s a good job he wasn’t then wasn’t it? If that’s you done telling me about how messed up I am, I’m going to sleep.” 

There’s a screech as Dean kicks his chair back and walks out, not checking to see if Sam if following or if he’s sneaking back to do more research. For once Dean doesn’t care. If he passes out on a book that more time Dean doesn’t have to deal with Sam. 

Dean does not need this. Not on the day he’s decided he’s done with John. It’s not like him being back has changed anything. John has behaved the way Dean realises he always knew he would, or at least expected. Dean cared too much about John and what he thought when his father was dead. All John’s return has made him realise is what he really cares about.


	27. Scared

When John wakes up from his nap on Becky’s couch he’s briefly disorientated. The room is tidy. When he’d fallen asleep Becky had been looking through Chuck’s paperwork which was apparently all over the place. He hadn’t even understood enough about what she was looking for to help her. Now though the room is spotless, paperwork piled into neat stacks or gone, and there’s no Becky anywhere. It’s dark outside, faint orange light coming in from a streetlight. He must’ve slept for hours, Becky herself is probably in bed by now. 

He picks up the ‘smart phone’ that Sam gave him but there’s no messages, so he doesn’t even need to attempt to push in the passcode, which is good because that might be a bit beyond him still. Modern technology is crazy. He can barely believe that it has come on so far in so few years. He’d admired Sam’s research abilities whenever they went on a hunt back when the boys were kids but whenever they managed to get Sam to a library with a computer it was remarkable. By his late teens he could crack cases in an afternoon that would take days otherwise. Him and Dean must be truly terrifying now with a computer wherever they go. Among other reasons, dark part of his brain supplies.

And that bunker. John can’t exactly say that he approves of them staying in one place but there’s definitely something to be said for the information there. Bobby would’ve loved it. Had he seen it? God Bobby, John had assumed the old bastard would be kicking around forever. Dangerous in this line of work but Bobby had stopped actively hunting even back when he used to babysit the boys. If anyone could make it to old age and peaceful death it would’ve been him. Should’ve been. 

The streetlight flickers and flares, the room flashing golden and – no streetlights don’t do that. John stands up and looks out the window into a back yard where Becky is throwing papers into a bonfire. 

“HEY,” John yells, pulling open the back door, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Becky starts and drops another bundle of papers into the flames. Her hair flails about her and she’s wearing the same clothes from earlier, from the size of the bonfire she could’ve been doing this for hours. 

“I’m - I’m burning old paperwork. I realised that Chuck’s stuff would’ve been easier to find so I’m throwing out everything that’s out of date. So, I thought I’d get rid of it. That’s - I just wanted to help!” 

The thing about lying is that people feel the need to explain themselves. Most people’s lies are believable, most people can come up with a good excuse on the spot. Few realise that if they were telling the truth they wouldn’t have the need to explain themselves. 

He grabs her arm and shakes her. 

“Show me! Show me what it is!” 

Becky points at the stacks on the ground with her free hand. He jerks her when he lets go of her arm to scare her into staying in place. It’s a technique he learned in the army on a day he doesn’t like to remember. 

He scans through the writing on the top of one of the piles. He barley registers Sam and Dean’s names before grabbing for Becky again. She flinches back but he catches her before she accidentally steps too close to the flames.

“Why’d you lie, huh? That’s one of the books. What’re you up to?” 

“I’m sorry! I’m getting rid of the old manuscripts too! That’s all! I don’t need them anymore. They’re all on my computer. They’re just junk!” 

The thing was John maybe would have believed her, not that she wasn’t lying, but that whatever secrets she was keeping weren’t to do with him but that? He’s not known her long but its clear that her devotion to Chuck and his writings is something truly important to her. They aren’t junk. She wouldn’t burn them unless she had to. Unless she was hiding something. 

“I’m going to find out what you’re doing. And I’m going to stop you.” He pulls her close enough to see the light of the flames flickering across her eyes. He can feel the heat of the fire at his back and it occurs to him if she was up to something she could push him into the blaze. It would take much, even for all his training there’s very little he can do if someone flings their whole weight at him or pushes him off balance, both of which he’s left himself open for because he didn’t think she was much of a threat. She doesn’t move though, just cowers and that he doesn’t understand. He lets go but leans even closer and whispers, “Pick all this shit up and take it back inside.” 

She nods and sets about doing it uncomplainingly. John stands in front of the fire and makes sure she doesn’t burn anything else. He doesn’t know what she’s up to but it’s something he doesn’t like. 

He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

-|-

When Sam wakes up, far too early for the amount of sleep he’s had, he reaches for his phone. Before he can touch it he hears a knock.

“Sam, can I talk to you?” Jack asks.

“Sure, thing buddy, come in.” 

Jack sits on the edge of Sam bed and Sam pulls himself out from under the covers to go sit next to him.

“I know this isn’t really the time but I’m... a little lost right now.” Sam nods in a way he hopes is understanding and manages to convey that Jack can continue if he wants to. Jack picks up on body language far better than he used to now, far better than even Cas does. Jack could probably even pass for human. 

“It’s just everything’s gone a little crazy and I don’t really know why. I… what’s Lucifer like? My birth father?” 

“Phew. It’s too early in the morning for this Jack,” Sam says pushing his hair out of his face. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll just go,” Jack stammers standing up, but Sam pulls him back down. 

“It’s fine, it’s just a heavy subject for first thing in the day. Truth is I don’t really know how to describe Lucifer.” 

“But you were his vessel? He tortured you in Hell. You’ve worked with him. You’ve got to have some idea.” 

“Well I have an idea of what he’s like, but… he’s been alive for millennia, he’s a complicated guy. I guess he’s bitter first of all, bitter and angry. And cruel. He felt that he’s been slighted – which I don’t really know the circumstances of – and he never got over it. And it festered for thousands of years until it consumed him. The weird thing is I get that part of it though. When dad threw me out I was so angry, and Dean now he’s still angry. You know what he’s been like this past week. I’ve not seen him this upset in years. So, I get that part of it. But I don’t understand letting it consume you like that.

“So angry first of all. And then he scares me. I don’t really think he will ever stop scaring me after what he did to me. He likes hurting people, I don’t’ think he cares about anyone, I don’t think he loves. And that’s terrifying. Or at least I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well he asked for you. Dean thinks it’s a trap, that he wants to use you, which I agree with, but I don’t think it’s just that. I think he might care about you. As much as he is able to anyways.” Sam sees Jacks frown down at the ground and reassures him, “Don’t worry we’re not going to trade you to him for help or anything.” 

“Is that what he wanted?” Jack asks, swinging his legs.

“Hey, kid, look at me.” Sam pulls Jack’s chin around so they’re facing one another. “Lucifer is never getting anywhere near you. Neither is John. Alright? The most important thing is keeping you safe. You’re family. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Jack shakes his head loose from Sam’s grasp and leans in for a hug. 

Sam wraps his arms around him and tries to remember if he even went to John when he was scared. And if John hugged him when he was afraid. He can’t remember. He only remembers Dean doing that. John must’ve, surely, at least when he was very small. He should ask Dean but he’s worried about what Dean would say. 

“C’mon,” he says standing up and pulling Jack up with him, “You’ve had a rough few days, I’ll make us waffles.” 

-|-

Because of Jack Sam never opens his phone until after breakfast. He misses the text from Becky: ‘I’m scared of your dad. Last night I burned a couple of spell books I’d collected and a few copies of some of Chuck’s works I didn’t think you’d want him getting a hold of. He shouted at me and at one point I thought he was going to push me into the fire. Please can you come and watch me instead? He really frightened me, Sam. He was so angry. I don’t know why he’s being like this, but I don’t feel safe. Please, Sam.’

-|-

“What the Hell?” Sam asks John when he and Castiel appear in Becky’s living room. He hasn’t looked at his phone for hours and hates the thought that he left Becky alone with John. 

“What?” John snaps from his lookout at the window. Sam can tell he’s pissed off that him and Cas got the jump on him. 

“Becky told me how you behaved. Seriously? She’s terrified of you. You’re supposed to be protecting her!” 

“She’s up to something Sam and you’re too blind and naïve to see it!” 

“Naïve? You think I’m naïve? I’m not naïve, know what you are though? Paranoid! Absolutely fucking paranoid, always have been always will be!” 

“Sam, John,” Castiel cuts in, “I hardly think this is conductive to the investigation. John, if you will consent to come with me I can take you to the bunker where you can help with research while Sam takes watch over Becky.” 

Sam can practically see the way John’s posture shifts when he looks at Castiel. It’s weird seeing Castiel through his father’s eyes, he’s so used to Cas being Cas. John is instantly on guard at the sight of him. John sees the Castiel that Sam saw years ago, all tough and severe, before realising how hopeless Cas was when it came to pop culture, before Dean’s mandatory movie nights and seeing what Cas was like frustrated, angry, happy, exhausted, lonely and heartbroken. All emotions that he suppressed or maybe didn’t even have way back then. None of which are emotions likely to come out during a high stress hunt like this one, so John’s not likely to see them either. Castiel is radiating cold power and authority and Sam wonders if John took Castiel himself into account when claiming that he wanted to be a better father towards Dean, that he wanted to be okay with the whole bisexual thing. From the look on Johns face ‘probably not’ is the answer. 

Still he nods stiffly and manages to keep the fear off his face as Castiel walks towards him, although Sam can tell that he is actually very afraid, and they disappear from Becky’s living room.

Good, Sam thinks, Becky was scared enough, John deserves to feel like that to. Now, where exactly is Becky?


End file.
